i 


.^enry  P'Dowst 


>vawin 


John  Albert  Se afore. 


Random  Notes  of  Boston 


Boston  Light,  from  the  Sea-Wall,  Hull. 


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Random  Notes  of  Boston 


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Faneuil  Hall,  "The  Ceadle  of  Liberty,"  built  by 
Peter  Faneuil,  1742.  Beyond,  the  North  End; 
Spire  of  Christ  Church. 


RANDOM    NOTES 

OF 

BOSTON 


BY 

HENRY  P.  DOWST 


DRAWINGS  BY 

JOHN  ALBERT  SEAFORD 


BOSTON 

H.  B.  HUMPHREY  COMPANY 

MDCCCCXIII 


COPYRIGHT  1913 

H.    B.    HUMPHREY    COMPANY 

BOSTON 


RANDOM   NOTES 
OF  BOSTON 

PREFACE 


A    famous   illustrator  of   cities,  obsessed  perhaps 
by  the  splendors  of   an  older  world,  not  long 
ago  denied  Boston  any  title  to  the  picturesque. 

The  illustrator  of  this  book  comes  pleasantly  to 
the  rescue  with  tangible  evidence,  here  laid  before 
all  who  care  to  consider  it,  in  the  form  of  drawings 
made  with  a  keen  appreciation,  not  alone  of  form 
and  line,  but  of  the  atmosphere  of  his  subject. 

These  pictures  are  true  because  they  delineate 
things  in  groups  and  relations,  not  with  the  mechan- 
ical precision  of  photography,  but  in  their  aspect  as 
impressed  upon  the  human  retina.  Our  brains  are 
happily  schooled  to  make  allowances  for  and  to 
modify  mathematical  distortions  of  perspective,  and 

11 


Random   Notes  of  Boston 

to  minimize  the  intrusion  of  awkward  or  inconsistent 
details.  The  artist  has  aptly  caught  this  subtle  and 
charitable  psychology  of  viewpoint,  and  so  has  given 
us  pictures  of  Boston  as  it  looks.  He  has  sensed  the 
charm  of  the  city,  and  has  been  able  so  to  do  because 
he  loves  Boston  as  it  is,  not  grieving  too  much  for 
what  it  might  have  been  or  ought  to  be. 

It  was  never  intended  to  make  this  random  com- 
ment in  any  degree  complete  or  comprehensive. 
Many  subjects  are  left  out  because  they  seem  not  to 
lend  themselves  happily  to  artistic  portrayal,  and 
still  others  are  omitted  which,  while  highly  available 
for  pictorial  purposes,  have  been  repeatedly  illustrated 
or  for  which  no  adequate  space  could  be  provided 
here. 

The  desire  is  to  suggest  something  of  the  Boston 
spirit  by  a  limited  amount  of  text  and  a  group  of 
random  sketches  in  keeping  with  it.  As  a  guide  to 
Boston  the  book  would  be  quite  useless;  as  an  intro- 
duction to  Boston  in  its  more  intimate  aspects,  it 
will  perhaps  serve  its  purpose  agreeably  and  accept- 
ably. 


ABOir 


The  Old  South  Church,   1875,  Boylston  Street,  at 
Copley  Square. 


Random   Note. 


Boston 


!  tLision  of  awkward  or  inconsistent 
iji  i  ..rl.ist  has  aptly  caught  this  subtle  and 

hology  of  viewpoint,  and  so  has  given 
US  picli  Boston  as  it  looks.    He  has  sensed  the 

charm  oi  U  and  has  been  able  so  to  df>  because 

"^  i/fciloa  as  it  is,  not  grieving  too  mudi  for 
sviiul  il  niigJbt  have  been  or  ought  to  be. 

I  never  intended  to  make  this  random  com- 

mei  my   degree   complete   or   comprehensive. 

Many  subjects  are  left  out  because  they  seem  not  to 
lend  themselves  happily  to  artistic  portrayal,  and 
still  others  aire  omitted  which,  while  highly  available 
for  pictorial  purposes, have  been  repeatedly  illustrated 
which  no  adequate  space  could  be  provided 
here. 

The  desire  is  to  suggest  something  of  the  Boston 
spirit  h  lited  amount  of  text  and  a  group  of 

random  sketches  in  keeping  with  it.  iVs  a  guide  to 
Boston  the  book  would  be  quite  useless;  as  an  intro- 
duction to  Boston  in  its  more  intimate  aspects,  it 
will  perhaps  serve  its  purpose  agreeably  and  accept- 
ablv. 


TA  jaaaxa  xoxajYoa  ,z\Si   ,ho£-jh3  htuo8  qjO  aaiT 
.auiAupS  Y3jqo0 


ABOUT  COPLEY  SQUARE 


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l^OR    the    parp<; 

Boston    may 
square,   which  is  l 
*'made  land,"  wher 
flats  of  the  Back  B. 

The  early  sett! 
spot  of  earth 
growth  in  populati 
land  or  ta' 
ground  that  practi 
the  Common  as  fa 
built.      The    old 
buildings  of  Colon- 
times,  are  clusters 
slope  of  Shawmul 

Until  the  d*- 
called  Trinity  " 


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.hd^jh3  HTUofe'  aiO  ant  ;YioJOV^oaT 


4 


BoYLSTON  Street,  looking  West  toward  Copley  Square. 
On  the  Right,  the  Massachusetts  Institute  of 
Technology;  the  Old  South  Church. 


RANDOM   NOTES 
OF  BOSTON 


ABOUT  COPLEY  SQUARE 

IT^OR  the  purposes  of  this  book,  the  center  of 
Boston  may  logically  be  located  at  Copley 
square,  which  is  no  part  of  Old  Boston,  since  it  is 
"made  land,"  where  in  early  times  the  tide-flooded 
flats  of  the  Back  Bay  lay  drear  and  forbidding. 

The  early  settlers  picked  out  for  their  town  a 
spot  of  earth  so  nearly  an  island  that,  with  the 
growth  in  population,  its  dwellers  must  either  make 
land  or  take  to  the  boats;  and  it  is  upon  made 
ground  that  practically  all  of  Boston  lying  west  of 
the  Common  as  far  as  Roxbury  and  Brookline  was 
built.  The  old  Boston  landmarks,  the  sturdy 
buildings  of  Colonial,  Provincial,  and  Revolutionary 
times,  are  clustered  upon  the  eastern  and  northern 
slope  of  Shawmut  promontory. 

Until  the  death  of  Bishop  Brooks  in  1893,  people 
called  Trinity  "PhilHps  Brooks's  Church."  A  bronze 
memorial  stands  in  his  honor  on  the  Boylston  street 
side,  shadowed  by  that  far  greater  monument  to  his 

15 


Random   Notes  of   Boston 

genius,  the  church  which  he  built  and  loved.  The 
Great  Fire  of  1872  destroyed  old  Trinity,  on  Sum- 
mer street,  shortly  after  the  parish  called  Phillips 
Brooks  to  be  its  minister.  To  him  fell  the  task  of 
replacing  it  with  a  new  edifice,  and  under  his  leader- 
ship the  work  began  in  1873. 

Every  great  institution  expresses  an  individuality, 
whether  it  be  a  railroad,  a  bank,  a  college  or  a  church. 
Trinity  Church,  in  its  great  size,  its  artistic  character, 
its  richness,  expresses  Phillips  Brooks.  If  it  is  a 
wonderful  church  to  you,  it  becomes  more  wonderful 
when  you  realize  this.  According  to  that  illuminat- 
ing chapter  on  its  building,  in  the  biography  of 
Bishop  Brooks,  written  by  Professor  A.  V.  G.  Allen, 
Trinity  is  not  a  mere  house  of  worship,  built  to  shelter 
a  large  and  wealthy  congregation,  but  an  organic 
symbol  of  spiritual  thought,  bigger  and  broader  than 
any  sect  or  creed,  typifying  the  spirit  and  mysticism 
of  Christianity  and  the  Christian  Church,  as  inter- 
preted by  a  great  soul.    Says  Professor  Allen : 

"He  would  take  from  the  old  order  the  ideas  of 
solidity  and  grandeur  of  beauty,  of  adornment  in 
form  and  color,  which  should  surpass,  if  possible,  all 
other  beauty,  as  when  the  church  seemed  greater 
than  the  world,  the  spiritual  stronger  and  richer  than 
the  temporal,  and  in  its  costly  decoration  symbolizing 
that  wealth  was  most  worthily  employed  when  it 
ministered  to  spiritual  ends." 

Trinity  Church  interprets  Phillips  Brooks's  hu- 

16 


Copley  Square,  from  St.  James  Avenue;  on  the  Right, 
Trinity  Church;  on  the  Left,  Copley-Plaza  Hotel; 
beyond,  the  Public  Library. 


which  he  buil 

old  Trinil. 

..•>  to  be  iii)  mimsLer.  im-iK  oi 

M  ^m;u  ing  it  with  a  new  edilicc.  '      '  - 

ship  [he  work  began  in  1873. 

Every  great  institutioji  expresses  an  iudividuahty, 
whether  it  be  a  railroad,  a  bank,  a  college  or  a  church. 
Trinity  Church,  in  its  great  size,  its  artistic  character, 
nness,  expresses  PhiUips  Brooks.  If  it  is  a 
wonderful  church  to  you.  it  becomes  more  wonderful 
\^hen  you  realize  this.  According  to  that  illuminat- 
ing chapter  on  its  building,  in  the  biography  of 
Bishop  Brooks,  written  by  Professor  A.  V,  G.  Allen. 
Trinity  is  not  a  mere  house  of  worship,  built  to  shelter 
a  large  and  wealthy  congregation,  but  an  organic 
symbol  of  spiritual  thought,  bigger  and  broader  than 
any  sect  or  creed,  typifying  the  spirit  and  mysticism 
of  Christianity  and  the  Christian  Church,  as  inter- 
preted by  a  great  souL    Says  Professor  Allen : 

"He  would  take  from  the  old  order  the  ideas  of 
solidity  and  grandeur  of  beauty,  of  adornment  in 
form  and  color,  which  should  surpass,  if  possible,  all 
other  beauty,  as  when  the  church  seemed  greater 
than  the  world,  the  spiritual  stronger  and  richer  than 
the  temporal,  and  in  its  costly  decoration  symbolizing 
that  wealth  was  most  worthilv  employed   when  it 

.Y^j/^aiJ  Duauq  3HT  ^avioYaa 


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.-^^ 


Random   Notes  of   Boston 

manity — his  recognition,  not  only  of  the  demands  of 
rehgion,  but  "of  the  sacredness  of  earth  and  the 
secular  life" — his  warm,  understanding  sympathy. 

Trinity  was  consecrated  on  February  9,  1877. 
On  the  next  day,  Mr.  Brooks  wrote  to  Robert  Treat 
Paine,  of  the  building  committee,  his  friend  and 
classmate,  this  expression: 

"I  am  almost  appalled  when  I  think  what  the 
work  in  this  great  new  Church  may  be.  I  know  that 
I  shall  have  your  help  and  prayers  in  the  part  of  it 
which  shall  fall  to  me  to  do.  Many,  many  happy 
years  are  before  us,  if  the  Lord  will,  and  when  we 
leave  the  great  dear  thing  to  those  who  come  after 
us  we  shall  be  near  one  another,  I  am  sure,  in  the 
better  life." 

Upon  an  intellectual  foundation  somewhat  akin 
to  the  spiritual  bed-rock  of  Trinity,  rests  the  Boston 
Public  Library,  an  embodiment  of  Puritanism  de 
luxe.  Here  is  a  noteworthy  sentiment  from  the 
report  of  the  committee,  which,  in  1847,  was  ap- 
pointed to  determine  the  expediency  of  establishing 
a  municipal  library  in  Boston: 

"It  will  provide  for  those  who  are  desirous  of 
reading  a  better  class  of  books  than  the  ephemeral 
literature  of  the  day." 

The  nucleus  of  the  collection  was  a  gift  of  fifty 
volumes  sent  in  1841  by  the  city  of  Paris,  and 
presented  by  the  hand  of  Nicholas  Marie  Alexandre 
Vattemare,  a  Frenchman,  who  devoted  many  years 

18 


The  Boston  Public  Library,  Copley  Square;    beyond, 
THE  Old  South  Church. 


Ran  Boston 

mamlv  nition,  not  oiiiy  oi  tiie  at?maiids  oi 

religion,   ni  a   the  sacre^'-  '■  •    "^    -  .«>)  and  the 

secular  life"--his  warm,  in  tnHMfti. 

Trinity  was  consecrate<. 
On  the  next  day,  Mr.  Brook  Rf>bf'r 

Paine,   of   the  building  commit:tf:N  md 

.classmate,  this  expression: 

'*I  am  almost  appalled  when  I  think  what  the 
work  in  this  greal  hiirch  may  be.    I  know  that 

I  shall  have  your  iielp  and  prayers  in  the  part  of  it 
which  shall  fall  to  me  to  do.  Many,  many  happy 
years  are  before  us,  if  the  Lord  will,  and  when  we 
leave  the  great  dear  thing  to  those  who  come  after 
us  we  shall  l>e  near  one  another,  I  am  sure,  in  the 
better  life." 

Upon  an  intellectual  foundation  somewhat  akin 
to  the  spiritual  bed-rock  of  Trinity,  rests  the  Boston 
Pubhc  Library,  an  embodiment  of  Puritanism  de 
luxe.  Here  is  a  noteworthy  sentiment  from  the 
report  of  the  committee,  which,  in  1847,  was  ap- 
pointed to  determine  the  expedienr  -  ''  stabUshing 
a  municipal  library  in  Boston: 

'*It  will  provide  for  those  who  are  desirous  of 
reading  a  better  class  of  books  than  the  ephemeral 
literature  of  the  day." 

The  nucleus  of  the  collection  was  a  gift  of  fifty 

volumes   sent   in    1841    by   the   city   of   Paris,    and 

presented  by  the  hand  of  Nicholas  Marie  Alexandre 

Vattemare,  a  Frenchman,  who  de\'ot(;Kl  man.y  years 
,(moY3.si    ;  3^AUp8  YajqoD  jYJiAJiai J  ouarj^  MOTaoa  anT 

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Random   Notes  of   Boston 

to  exploiting  the  idea  of  an  international  literary 
exchange.  Vattemare  possessed  three  splendid 
qualities — breadth  of  vision,  cleverness  and  persist- 
ence. If  he  was  not  the  father  of  the  Boston  Public 
Library  he  was,  let  us  say,  the  "attending  phy- 
sician," and  a  very  skilful  one. 

The  first  cash  endowment  for  the  Library  was 
one  thousand  dollars  from  Mayor  Bigelow,  in  1850, 
who  segregated  it  from  a  "testimonial"  raised  for 
his  benefit  by  a  grateful  citizenry,  in  appreciation  of 
heroic  work  during  the  cholera  epidemic. 

Edward  Everett,  in  offering  his  collection  of  one 
thousand  volumes  of  public  documents,  said  in  a 
letter  to  Mayor  Bigelow,  urging  a  building  to  shelter 
the  library: 

"Such  an  establishment  would  be  an  object  of 
public  favor  from  the  outset.  The  people  would 
regard  it  as  their  own  creation  and  take  a  pride  in 
its  increase.     Authors  and  publishers  would  feel  it 

an  honor  to  place  their  works  on  its  shelves 

A  building ....  aiming  at  nothing  but  convenience 

and  neatness ought  not  to  be  a  show  place 

for  strangers  nor  a  lounge  for  idlers;  but  a  quiet 
retreat  for  persons  who  desire  earnestly  to  improve 
their  minds." 

Do  you  think  it  occurred  to  Mr.  Everett  that 
anyone  would  ever  smile  at  that.^^ 

Joshua  Bates  of  London,  an  American  by  birth, 
gave  fifty  thousand  dollars  in   1853  to  buy  books. 

20 


One   of   the   Flanking  Towers   of  Trinity,   Copley 
Square;  the  Gargoyles. 


Random   Notes         Boston 

Hting  the  idt        "  "nternationai   literary 

exctiiiige.  Vattemao'  pu->t>sed  three  splendid 
qiuilities — breadth  of  vision,  cleverness  and  persist- 
ence. If  he  was  not  the  father  of  the  Boston  Public 
Library  he  was,  let  us  say,  the  "attending  phy- 
sician," and  a  very  skilful  one. 

The  first  cash  endowment  for  the  Library  was 
one  thousand  dollars  from  Mayor  Bigelow,  in  1850, 
who  segregated  it  from  a  "testimonial'*  raised  for 
his  benefit  by  a  grateful  citizenry,  in  appreciation  of 
heroic  work  during  the  cholera  epidemic. 

Edward  Everett,  in  offering  his  collection  of  one 
thousand  volumes  of  public  documents,  said  in  a 
letter  to  Mayor  Bigelow,  urging  a  building  to  *j}u>]f«r 
the  library: 

"Such  an  establishment  would  be  an  object  of 
public  favor  from  the  outset.  The  people  would 
regard  it  as  their  own  creation  and  take  a  pride  in 
its  increase.  Authors  and  publishers  would  feel  it 
an  hbnor  to  place  their  works  on  its  shelves 
A  building ....  aiming  at  nothing  but  convenience 

and  neatness ought  not  to  be  a  show  place 

for  strangers  nor  a  lounge  for  idlers;  but  a  quiet 
retreat  for  persons  who  desire  earnestly  to  improve 
their  minds." 

Do  you  think  it  occurred  to  Mr.  Everett  that 
anyone  would  ever  smile  at  that? 

Joshua  Bates  of  London,  an  American  by  birth, 

ga^^Jtf6^  tjOTiHauffl  doliajB[WQTl8S®2©^43i\a^>(>te.  a^O 
.aajYOoaAO  SHT  ;aaAUp^ 
20 


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S"^     '  iff     ,    v^s* 


\    Vf* 


Random   Notes  of   Boston 

Other  gifts  followed,  and  the  trustees  opened  the 
first  public  reading  room  in  Mason  street,  in  Octo- 
ber, 1853.  In  five  and  a  half  months,  of  35,389 
volumes  borrowed  for  home  use,  only  one  was 
damaged  and  one  lost,  in  each  of  which  cases  the 
borrower  cheerfully  made  reparation. 

In  1855  the  City  started  the  Boylston  street 
library  building,  which  was  completed  by  January 
1,  1858,  and  which,  at  the  end  of  twenty  years, 
proved  inadequate  for  its  purpose. 

The  determination  of  a  location  and  the  acquisi- 
tion of  the  land  for  a  new  building  covered  a  period 
of  years,  but  in  1887  the  preparation  of  plans  was 
begun  by  McKim,  Mead  &  White,  and  the  building 
was  ready  for  occupancy  in  1895. 

Looking  at  the  library  one  might  fail  to  see  the 
hallmarks  of  Puritanism.  Its  exterior  outlines  are 
softened  by  much  gracious  and  appropriate  orna- 
mentation. The  great  windows  above  relieve  the 
facade  of  bleakness,  if  those  in  the  lower  row  are  a 
little  uncompromising.  Much  may  be  said  in  praise 
of  the  sculptural  decorations  above  the  triple-arched 
entrance,  in  spite  of  early  criticism  by  certain  good 
people  of  Boston — and  that  was  indeed  Puritanism. 
Yet,  you  will  admit  that  a  little  stone  boy  may  be 
a  good  Puritan,  even  wanting  his  pinafore. 

Nor  shall  a  lithe  brown  Bacchante  flaunt  her 
bronze  allurements  in  that  sacred  inner  court;  we 
may  thank  the  shade  of  John  Winthrop  for  that! 


AVENUES  OV  THK 


The   Westland   Avenue    Entrance   of   the   Fenway; 

BEYOND,  THE  DOME  OF  THE  FiRST  ChITICH  OF   ChRIST, 

Scientist. 


SoT¥  Boston 

Other  gilts   followed,   and    die  trust*  -  led  tlie 

first  public  reading  room  in  Mason  >  i  Octo- 

ber,  185:3.     In  five  and  a  half  raoir  '"  "^" 

volumes    borrowed    for    home    '  ••  .^;. 

damaged  and  one  lost,  in  eac.  scs  the 

borrower  cheerfully  made  reparnti  ' 

In  started  oylston   street 

library  building,  which  was  completed  by  January 
1,  1858,  and  which,   at    the    ei  twenty    years, 

proved  inadequate  for  its  purpose. 

The  determination  of  a  location  and  the  acquisi- 
tion of  the  land  for  a  new  building  covered  a  period 
of  years,  but  in  1887  the  preparation  of  plans  was 
begun  by  McKim,  Mead  &  White,  <^^-'^  ^'^"^  iviilJina 
was  ready  for  occupancy  in  1895. 

Looking  at  the  library  one  might  fail 
hallmarks  of  Puritanism.  Its  exterior  outlines  are 
softened  by  much  gracious  and  appropriate  orna- 
mentation. The  great  windows  above  relieve  the 
facade  of  bleakness,  if  those  in  the  lower  row  art  a 
little  uncompromising.  Much  may  be  said  in  praise 
of  the  sculptural  decorations  above  the  triple-arched 
entrance,  in  spite  of  early  criticism  by  certain  good 
people  of  Boston — and  that  was  indeed  Puritanism. 
Yet,  you  will  admit  that  a  little  stone  boy  may  be 
a  good  Puritan,  even  wanting  his  pinafore. 

Nor  shall  a  lithe  brown   Bacchante  flaunt  her 

,T8i|ui3  ,10  HoauHO  TZsiK  .3HT  XQ  sMoG.  |iiT  .cfvioYaa 
may  tnank  the  shade  oi  John  Wmthrop  lor^^^^jiQg 


AVENUES  OF  THE  NEW  CITY. 


-**M~-- 


4- 


'■•fi'^i.S^'^'' 


--.,  ;:^>.ssr!s?'as^ 


i 


i-r   I 


A\ 


'ff^n^~ 


1  ^ '.!<«' 


T  N  many  to\N 

with  the   sticei 
from  them  by  direciic 
so  in  Boston,  where    i 
or  any  avenue  a  stree! 
sponsors.     Thus,  chnr; 
streets,  is  indiviHn  ' 
Harrison    a\<jr 
served  to  be  eaten 
peril"  is  nu 
ington  aveniii ,  lim 
to  Brookhne,  with  i 
Commonwealth  b.\ 
residents;     and  M 
contravention  of  f' 
others  at   rit/ln 


Observe 

ods    are 

md  the**  yellow 

momic;     Hunt- 

pley  square. 

;aic  ol  show-places; 

commonly  wealthy 

-"•iiie,  in  apparent 

_     ,^    lie,  crossing  the 

journey   through    Dor- 


chester, Roxhurv  and  the  Back  Bay,  and  bridging 
the    Ba-  aibridge,    whence,    after    nosing 

10  nomjuD  xaai'I  anf  ^n  tt/oQ  3b.t  ^avio/aa  |jjaH 

.xaiTViaioS  jsismD 


Symphony  Hall,  Huntington  Avenue;  Horticultural 
Hall;  beyond,  the  Dome  of  the  First  Church  of 
Christ,  Scientist. 


II. 


AVENUES  OF  THE  NEW  CITY. 

TN  many  towns,  the  avenues  run  at  right  angles 
with  the  streets,  or  in  some  way  differentiate 
from  them  by  direction  or  arrangement.  This  is  not 
so  in  Boston,  where  any  street  may  be  an  avenue, 
or  any  avenue  a  street,  according  to  the  whim  of  its 
sponsors.  Thus,  character  in  avenues,  as  well  as  in 
streets,  is  individual,  rather  than  collective.  Observe 
Harrison  avenue,  where  odd  Oriental  foods  are 
served  to  be  eaten  with  chop-sticks,  and  the"  yellow 
peril"  is  more  gastronomic  than  economic;  Hunt- 
ington avenue,  from  Trinity  Crossing,  Copley  square, 
to  Brookline,  with  more  than  its  share  of  show-places ; 
Commonwealth  avenue  and  its  uncommonly  wealthy 
residents;  and  Massachusetts  avenue,  in  apparent 
contravention  of  the  rules  of  the  game,  crossing  the 
others  at  right  angles  in  its  journey  through  Dor- 
chester, Roxbury  and  the  Back  Bay,  and  bridging 
the  Basin  to  Cambridge,  whence,  after  nosing 
about   Harvard    College,   it   disappears   among   the 

25 


Random   Notes  of   Boston 

distant  hills  of  Arlington — a  well  educated,  broad- 
minded  and  cosmopolitan  highway,  though  devious. 

Then  regard  Beacon,  Marlboro,  Newbury  and 
Boylston  streets,  all  seemly  and  well-conducted 
routes,  which,  if  the  term  "avenue"  connoted  any 
distinction,  should  bear  that  euphonious  title.  In 
the  intended  meaning  of  the  chapter  head,  these 
fall  naturally  under  the  classification  of  avenues. 

If  you  were  a  sight-seer,  Huntington  avenue 
would  keep  you  busy  for  a  day  or  a  month,  according 
to  the  thoroughness  of  your  purpose  and  persistence, 
by  reason  of  the  numerous  notable  institutions  along 
the  greater  part  of  its  length.  Yet  its  name  dates 
back  only  to  1864,  five  years  before  the  great  Peace 
Jubilee  and  Musical  Festival,  the  vast  Coliseum  of 
which  overlooked  the  avenue  at  its  cityward  end,  at 
Copley  square. 

The  Peace  Jubilee,  celebrating  a  reunited,  if  not 
reconstructed  country  and  the  prevalence  of  national 
peace,  was  conceived  by  the  late  P.  S.  Gilmore,  the 
famous  band  master.  The  Coliseum,  a  temporary 
structure  of  wood,  stood  where  later  the  old  Art 
Museum  was  built,  and  where  today  stands  the 
Copley-Plaza  hotel.  Photographs  show  that  the 
immense  building,  three  hundred  feet  wide  by  five 
hundred  feet  long,  overlooked  a  network  of  newly 
graded  streets  and  unfilled  building  lots.  It  shel- 
tered fifty  thousand  persons.  Ten  thousand  sang 
in    the    trained    festival    chorus,    and    a    thousand 

26 


The  Harvard  University  School  of  Medicine,  Long- 
wood  Avenue. 


Random   Notes  of   Boston 

distant  hills  of  Arlington — a  well  educated,  broad- 
minde<i  and  cosmopolitan  highway,  though  devious. 

Then  regard  Beacon,  Marlboro,  Newbury  ajid 
Boylston  streets,  all  seemly  and  well-conducted 
routes,  which,  if  the  term  *' avenue"  coimoted  any 
distinction,  should  bear  that  euphonious  title.  In 
the  intended  meaning  of  the  chapter  head,  these 
fall  naturally  under  the  classification  of  avenues. 

If   you    vvei  ht-seer,    Huntington   avenue 

would  keep  you  busy  ior  a  day  or  a  month,  according 
to  the  thoroughness  of  your  purpose  and  persistence, 
by  reason  of  the  numerous  notable  institutions  along 
the  greater  part  of  its  length.  Yet  its  name  dates 
back  only  to  1864,  five  years  bf  fnrr-  the  great  Peace 
Jubilee  and  Musical  .Festival  ^st  Coliseum  of 

which  overlooked  the  avei.  i Is  citywar^ 

Copley  square. 

The  Peace  Jubilee,  celebrating  a  reuru'ted,  if  not 
reconstructed  country  and  the  prevalence  of  national 
peace,  was  conceived  by  the  late  P.  S.  Gilmore,  the 
famous  band  master.  The  Coliseum,  a  temporary 
structure  of  wood,  stood  where  later  the  old  Art 
Museum  was  built,  and  where  today  stands  the 
Copley-Plaza  hotel.  Photographs  show  that  the 
immense  building,  three  hundred  feet  w^ide  by  five 
hundred  feet  long,  overlooked  a  network  of  newly 
graded  streets  and  unfilled  building  lots.  It  shel- 
tered fifty  thousand  persons.     Ten  thousand  sang 

'^i^J^\mLMmmlt6^i^(m^^ ^m^mvmw'  <ii*AvyAii  3«t 

.auMavA  aoow 

^^6 


]f^     r~"-       ir-    »■•"• 


^^ 


^^^^ 


/ 


"5    - 


^^*«4^^-'- 


1^^. 


5.n 


^l@i]^ 


rir^ 


§r''^^^!fc- 


^  5 


fai 


hi. 


Random   Notes  of  Boston 

musicians  composed  the  orchestra  and  bands.  Pres- 
ident Grant  was  the  most  distinguished  of  the 
guests,  and  Doctor  OHver  Wendell  Holmes  wrote  a 
hymn  of  peace  for  the  occasion. 

The  musical  program  was  made  up  largely  of 
standard,  classical  works,  and,  according  to  the 
newspaper  reports,  was  very  beautifully  rendered. 
Try  to  imagine  ten  thousand  persons  singing  "The 
Anvil  Chorus,"  "The  Star  Spangled  Banner"  and 
"America,"  each  with  "Organ,  Orchestra,  Military 
Band,  Drum  Corps,  Bell  and  Cannon  Accompani- 
ment." 

Along  Huntington  avenue  lies  the  "Quartier 
Latin"  of  Boston,  a  sort  of  expurgated  Montmartre, 
a  very  real  and  red-blooded  world  of  student  life. 
Here  lodge  the  boys  and  girls  of  the  schools  and 
studios.  The  Institute  of  Technology,  Boston  Uni- 
versity, the  medical  departments  of  Harvard  and 
Tufts,  the  Conservatory  of  Music  and  lesser  insti- 
tutions where  one  may  study  to  become  an  artist, 
an  orator,  an  actor,  or  a  virtuoso,  contribute  a 
floating  population  and  an  agreeable  atmosphere  of 
youth  and  ambition. 

One  might  speak,  accurately  enough,  of  a  "Uni- 
versity of  Huntington  avenue,"  with  its  narrow, 
asphalt  campus.  It  owns  no  blanketing  traditions, 
but  a  sunny,  hopeful  Bohemianism,  perfectly  com- 
patible with  baths,  barber  shops  and  mannerly 
behavior.    With  the  advantages  of  the  great  Library, 


The  Boston  Opera  House,  Huntington  Avenue. 


Random   Notes  of   Boston 

musiciaas  composed  the  orchestra  and  bands.    Pres- 
ident   Grant    was    the    most    distinguished    of    tlie 
guests,  and  Doctor  Oliver  VVciv'"''  it..!,>.  >     ..„,v.  . 
hymn  of  peace  for  the  occasion. 

The  musical  program  \vn>  made  up  largely  of 
standard,    classical    works,  according    to    the 

newspaper  reports,  was  very  beautifully  rendered. 
Tiy  to  imagine  ten  thousand  persons  singing  "The 
Anvil  Chorus,"  "The  Star  Spangled  Banner"  and 
*' America,"  each  with  "Organ,  Orchestra,  Military 
Band,  Drum  Corps,  Bell  and  Cannon  Accompani- 
ment." 

Along      liiiiiliii^iA_;ii      nwiin'.-      :  m  T^       luv  ^YU<irtier 

Latin"  of  Boston,  a  sort  of  expurgateti  Montmartre, 
a  very  real  nnd  red-blooded  world  of  '^fndent  life. 
Here  lod,;  boys  and  girls  «>f  ti  Is  and 

studios.    The  Institute  of  Technology 
versity,   the  medical  department^ 
Tufts,  the  Conservatory  of  Musi 
tutions  where  one  may  study  to  becume  an  artist, 
an    orator,   an   act<  irtuoso,   contribute   a 

floating  population  ana  an  agreeaf)le  atmosphere  of 
youth  and  ambition. 

One  might  speak,  accurate!.,  .._..,  ,.  a,  "Uni- 
versity of  Huntington  avenue,"  with  its  narrow, 
asphalt  campus.  It  owns  no  blanketing  traditions, 
but  a  sunny,  hopeful  Bohemianism,  perfectly  com- 
patible with  baths,  barber  shops  and  mannerly 
beha^do^.j    With  the  advantages  of  the  great  Library, 

.auMavA  MOxoMiTKuHg^auoH  A^a^O  vioxaoa  anT 


-^'^^'^^^^^^M-^^^ 


i?r^^-??r?'r:.-'A::'^-29r-^.7- .. 


**^v 


3!...ii' 


.  w  ll  P^  f^-- 


^^-  3r 


•7MIS: 


\-r 


fj,^ 


! 


Random   Notes  of   Boston 

the  Art  Museum,  the  Symphony,  the  Opera  and 
countless  freely  opened  doors  to  recitals  and  lectures, 
this  "University"  makes  the  educating  process  an 
agreeable  pastime  instead  of  a  period  of  drudgery. 
It  is  characteristic  of  Boston  that  unenrolled  thou- 
sands, of  all  ages  and  classes,  profit  by  its  tuition  with 
delight,  not  only  on  weekdays  but  on  Sundays  as 
well.  From  the  corner  of  Tremont  street,  along 
Boylston  street  and  out  Huntington  avenue  nearly 
to  Brookline  Village,  one  finds  almost  every  second 
portal  ready  to  swing  inward  to  the  explorer  for 
truth,  and  though  you  seek  theology  or  theosophy, 
medicine  or  melody,  religion  or  relaxation,  you  will 
decipher  "welcome,"  woven  under  foot  or  shining 
overhead,  and  someone  inside  who  knows  more  about 
the  subject  than  you  do.  For  further  particulars, 
consult  the  Evening  Transcript's  "Going  on  To- 
night" tabulation. 

And  now  consider  the  Symphony,  an  orchestra  of 
master  soloists,  housed  in  a  great  building  whose 
simple  dignity  and  reserve  within  and  without 
render  democratic  the  richness  of  its  design ;  consider 
the  Symphony,  incomparable  galaxy,  playing  like 
condescending  angels,  at  the  annual  spring  "Pops," 
and  alternating  Wagner  and  Cohan,  so  that  no  taste 
may  go  away  unappeased.  Through  a  thin  blue 
fog  of  tobacco  you  see  the  distinguished  conductor 
bow  to  a  storm  of  applause,  while  waiters  scurry 
among  the  tables,  and  women  of  gentle  breeding  peer 

30 


The  New  England  Conservatory  of  Music,  Hun- 
tington Avenue;  enrolls  Three  Thousand  Pupils 
Annually.  "The  Nursery  of  Opera";  among  its 
Graduates  are  Mesdames  Nordica,  Homer,  Amsden, 
and  many  other  American  Artists  of  Note. 


Random  :  Boston 

lupiioii  Opera 

coanliesfc  irceiy  op  ^nd  lectur:-.. 

Uiis  ''Univ^ersity"  auxt^^-   m.  -.,..-.......    ..,. 

agreeable  pastime  iastead  oi  ..  ,.   . 

It  is  characteristic  of  Boston  that  i 

sands,  of  all  nnies  and  classes,  profit  b: 

delight,  not  vveekdays  but  on  Sunday. •>  as 

well.      Froi  'Orner   of  Tremont   street,  along 

Boylston  streei  [Iimtington  avenue  nearly 

to  Brookline  Village,  one  finds  almost  every  second 

portal  ready  to  swing  inward  to  the  explorer  for 

truth,  and  though  you  seek  theology  or  theosophy, 

medicine  or  melody,  religion  or  relaxation,  you  will 

decipher  '* welcome,"  woven  imdc^r  foo?    -^f  >^ln'riin.> 

overhead,  and  someone  inside  who  kno\T 

the  subject  than  you  do.     I 

consult    the  Evening  Transcript's  ''G< 

night''  tabulation. 

And  now  consider  the  Symphony 
master  soloists,  housed  in  a  great  i>sAjidiiig  wiiuse 
simple  dignity  and  reserve  within  and  v-vithout 
render  democratic  the  richness  of  its  design;  consider 
the  Symphony,  incomparable  galaxy,  playing  like 
condescending  angels,  at  the  annual  spring  "Pops," 
and  ait  cm  a  I  in  rr  Wagner  and  Cohan,  so  that  no  taste 
may  ippeased.     Through  a  thin  blue 

fog  of  tobacco  ue  distinguished  conductor 

-h^M  [3i2HrMiiia»'.  Y!!J[0S^yiiD3^WQ0\vir?i^J§>\^eMa%u}^*T 

axi  ovi6ma  ;"AaaqO  10  yaaaiiu^  toT**^    .yjjatjMA 

j/iaaaMA  ^aaMoH  .poiasioVL  afji^AaaaM  a^A  aaxAUOAflO 

.axoM  '10  8T2iTaA  T^Di^aMA  aaHTO  ymam  cmA 


m 


4'^ 


■ft-- 


.V^^^. 


^^^/^:^^ 


Random   Notes  of   Boston 

down  at  the  throng  from  the  high  balconies. 

For  the  regular  Symphony  concerts,  season  tickets 
for  preferred  sittings  fetch  great  prices  at  auction, 
but  the  same  concerts  are  available  for  those  of 
moderate  means  who  crave  music  of  the  classic  sort. 
The  orchestra  is  composed  of  one  hundred  salaried 
performers,  recruited  from  all  over  the  world;  it 
is  in  fact,  the  largest  permanent  organization  of  its 
kind.  The  season  of  1913-1914  will  be  the  thirty- 
second  of  its  history. 

Old  Jed  Prouty,  of  tender  memory,  used  to 
recall  the  day  when  Little  Eva  couldn't  die  in 
Bucksport  because  the  opry  house  was  full  o'  hay. 
Similarly,  the  heroes  and  heroines  of  grand  opera 
were  obliged,  up  to  the  year  1909,  to  limit  their 
activities,  moribund  or  otherwise,  to  an  occasional 
period  of  three  weeks  in  Boston  and  to  the  inadequate 
accommodations  of  an  ordinary  theatre,  or  to  sur- 
mount, as  best  they  might,  the  acoustic  difficulties 
of  Mechanics  Hall.  But  with  the  building  of  the 
new  Opera  House  on  Huntington  avenue,  came 
the  organization  of  the  Boston  Opera  Company 
and  the  inauguration  of  an  annual  season  of 
opera  by  artists  of  recognized  talent,  in  Italian, 
French  and  German.  Public  spirit  has  made 
opera  in  Boston  possible,  but  music  lovers  have 
especially  to  thank  Mr.  Eben  D.  Jordan,  whose  gen- 
erosity, like  that  of  Colonel  Henry  L.  Higginson 
touching  the  Symphony,  has  smoothed  the  rough 

32 


place:;  ndorofl  finaiu  ial  rii^of  liti'ihle  fon- 

sideratio: 

And  :  across  the  dreai*\  flats  of  the 

Back  Bay  b  ?»  >  ad  will  continue  to  be  an  advance 

of  the  Boston  >pint,  typified  in  brick  and  "stone  and 
asphalt.     Tr  nng  touch  of  tini  .ady  in 

some  evidence,  pafticularly  wher  oi, template 

the  churches.  Tlie  venerable  society  •  i  the  South 
Church,  forn;  ^  ■"  1669,  after  worshipping  for  over 
a  century  ii  loved  Old  South  Meeting  House 

at  MHk  ?iris;  i-rtriT  streets,  orid  forced  by  the 

noriii  present 

li    It  niething  of  the 

Fenway  Court,  ihe  Isabella  Stuart  Gardner  Museum 

OF  Art. 

33 


],  X' 


1  )«JM  UiN 


down  at  the  throng  from  the  high  balconies. 

For  the  regular  Symphony  concerts,  season  tickets 
for  preferred  sittings  fetch  great  prices  at  auction, 
but  the  same  concerts  are  available  for  those  of 
moderate  means  who  crave  music  of  the  classic  sort. 
The  orchestra  is  composed  of  one  hundred  salaried 
performers,  recruited  from  all  over  the  world;  it 
is  in  fact,  the  largest  permanent  organization  of  its 
kind.  The  season  of  1913-1914  will  be  the  thirty- 
second  of  its  history. 

Old  Jed  Prouty,  of  tender  memory,  used  to 
recall  the  day  when  Little  Eva  couldn't  die  in 
Bucksport  because  the  opry  house  was  full  o'  hay. 
Similarly,  the  heroes  and  heroines  of  grand  opera 
were  obliged,  up  to  the  year  1909,  to  limit  their 
activities,  moribund  or  otherwise,  to  an  or  ' 

period  of  three  weeks  in  Boston  and  to  the  iua.  i.   .  » t  . 
accommodations  of  an  ordinary  theatre.  *<r    t    .,>: 
mount,  as  best  they  might,  the  acoustic 
of  Mechanics  Hall.     But  with  the  buildinc 
new   Opera  House  on    Huntington    avenue^    came 
the   organization    of    the   Boston   Opera   Company 
and    the    inauguration  =i    annual    season    of 

opera  by  artists  of  recugriized  talent,  in  Italian, 
French  and  Cfcrman.  Public  spirit  has  made 
opera  in  Boston  possible,  but  music  lovers  have 
especially  to  thank  Mr,  Eben  D.  Jordan,  whose  gen- 
erosity,  like  that   of   Colonel   Henry    1/.    Hifft'inson 

.thA  10 


Avenues  of  the   New  City 


^  ^,  _    _ ^i"  >^;VMi 


places  and  rendered  financial  profit  a  negligible  con- 
sideration. 

And  so  the  march  across  the  dreary  flats  of  the 
Back  Bay  has  been  and  will  continue  to  be  an  advance 
of  the  Boston  spirit,  typified  in  brick  and  stone  and 
asphalt.  The  softening  touch  of  time  is  already  in 
some  evidence,  particularly  when  you  contemplate 
the  churches.  The  venerable  society  of  the  South 
Church,  formed  in  1669,  after  worshipping  for  over 
a  century  in  the  beloved  Old  South  Meeting  House 
at  Milk  and  Washington  streets,  and  forced  by  the 
normal  increase  of  its  years,  built  its  present 
home  on  Boylston  street  in  1875.  Something  of  the 
dignity  of  its  age  seems  to  have  been  imparted  to  the 

33 


Random   Notes  of   Boston 

graceful  lines  and  soft,  vine  clad  arches  of  the  newer 
structure.  It  is  in  this  visible  and  tangible  quality 
of  the  Boston  spirit,  made  manifest  in  the  monu- 
ments destined  to  speak  for  us  to  the  generations  of 
the  future,  that  our  individuality  is  to  be  preserved. 
Let  them  say  of  us  that  we  builded,  if  not  better 
than  we  knew,  at  least  as  well,  and  surely  with 
loving  regard  for  the  Boston  of  other  days,  both  past 
and  yet  to  dawn. 


^^^tiS^' 


-%*>. 


■  ^r 


oaAWOT    oziaooj    ,av 


auO;    jaqAn3    s'omi3 


xaail    aHT  laMAjviOTSoS   yjiiA^-I  'a.HT 


'"!t8  TZOMaaT 
ivoO  Taaii 

lo  ¥i»Jam    qua 


>iooAaa  ^^^OMMO'J   T<OT2oa  T40  MiATVFJo'i  ^awaafl  3HT 

.aq;oj8  jjiH 


Random   Notes  of  Boston 

graceful  lines  and  soft,  vine  clad  arches  of  the  newer 
structure.  Tt  is  in  this  visible  and  tangible  quality 
of  the  Boston  spirit,  made  manifest  in  the  monu- 
ments destined  to  speak  for  us  to  the  generations  ot 
the  future,  tliat  our  individuality  is  to  be  preserved. 
Let  them  say  of  us  that  we  builded,  if  not  better 
than  we  knc  least   as   well,  vith 

loving  regard  for  the  Boston  of  other  days,  both  past 
and  yet  to  dawn. 


King's  Chapel  BitrRYiNG  Ground,  looking  toward 
Tremont  Street;  Resting  Place  of  John  Winthrop, 
First  Governor  or  Massachusetts  Bay  Company, 

AND     MANY     OE     THE     EaRLY     BoSTONIANS;   THE     FiRST 

Burial  Place  in  Boston. 


The  Brewer  Fountain  on  Boston   Common,  Beacon 

Hill  Slope. 


BEACON  HILL 


'■>/ 


/ 


i\ 


\  ^ 


^  1 


III. 


QOV  1 

he  Furititi 

i  nt  Uieir  nrsi    '"' 

.!i  nj'-tit-l,     I'j.s-w 

^rlestown,  whviv       n    ,  uhn  ^ 

and  the  drinki 

■:ir  eombine-l   i,.  .-w^r  .^mIj n- 

illness  and,  in 

ises,  deati 

noons  they  usei' 

e  longinglv 

river  at  the  thr 

top  of  Shawi: 

tory,     where    tht 

I  { e verend    Wil liam    B 1 

made  his  homr 

iad  cool  drinkiru; 

numerous  springs 

Uicil  flowed  mys!      . 

the  hillsides;      aiad    there   was   usii 

breeze  to  temp  - 

'      summer  heat. 

Blackstone  thai    ., 

■lOad  slopes  of  :~ 

promising    orn.  rt 

unities    for    d^'-^'f' 

suggested 

n?r    of    th' 

Accordingh 

autumn,  th 

tiock  move- 

in  thro  I 

the  poii 

cupied  by  th' 

mg.       They     .>«\ 

^listress     ' 

vl.)03Z/H  ilT  10   'dXl'S.  3IIT  a/ 
(SVIA  3000ZAH  VillO\   KOnSLgffO 


Top  or  Beacon  Street  near  the  Site  oe  the  Hancock 
House,  where  lived  Governor  John  Hancock  and 
HIS  Wife,  Dorothy  Quincy. 


III. 


BEACON  HILL 

(Governor  Winthrop  and  the  Puritan  found- 
ers of  Boston  spent  their  first  Massachusetts 
summer,  1630,  in  Charlestown,  where  the  chmate 
and  the  drinking  water  combined  to  cause  serious 
illness  and,  in  many  cases,  death.  In  the  hot  after- 
noons they  used  to  gaze  longingly  across  the  Charles 
river  at  the  three-peaked  top  of  Shawmut  promon- 
tory, where  the  Reverend  William  Blackstone 
made  his  home.  He  had  cool  drinking  water  from 
numerous  springs  that  flowed  mysteriously  out  of 
the  hillsides;  and  there  was  usually  a  pleasant 
breeze  to  temper  the  summer  heat.  It  occurred  to 
Blackstone  that  the  broad  slopes  of  Shawmut  offered 
promising  opportunities  for  development,  so  he 
suggested  something  of  the  sort  to  Winthrop. 
Accordingly,  in  early  autumn,  the  governor  and  his 
flock  moved  over.  W^inthrop  eventually  located  at 
the  point  today  occupied  by  the  Old  South  build- 
ing.     They    say    Mistress    Winthrop    went    daily 

37 


Random   Notes  of   Boston 

with  her  bucket  to  a  spring  a  little  farther  east  where 
now  you  find  "Spring  Lane,"  a  thoroughfare  that 
has  maintained  its  ancient  identity  to  this  day,  while 
the  fount  itself  is  said  to  flow  seaward,  through  a  sub- 
terranean channel. 

In  1633  the  Town  of  Boston  set  aside  for  William 
Blackstone  fifty  acres  of  farm  and  woodland. 
Blackstone's  home  was  in  the  vicinity  of  the  present 
Louisburg  square.  Where  today  the  dignified  old 
streets  on  the  western  slope  of  Beacon  Hill  drop 
sedatel}^  down  towards  Charles  River  Basin,  he 
raised  apples  and  roses.  Blackstone  has  been 
called  the  "First  Inhabitant"  of  Boston,  and  some 
have  referred  to  him  as  the  "Hermit  of  Shawmut. " 
Oxford  bred,  and  in  the  neighborhood  of  thirty-five 
years  old,  one  wonders  how  this  shy  young  clergyman 
found  courage  to  leave  home  and  take  up  a  solitary 
life  in  the  wilderness,  and  why.  He  must  have  been 
a  sort  of  Puritan  Robinson  Crusoe. 

The  Winthrop  party  found  him  "monarch  of  all 
he  surveyed,"  a  frockless  pastor,  preaching  tender 
sermons  of  friendliness  to  the  wild  creatures  and 
living  the  simple  life  alone  among  his  orchards  and 
rosebushes.  When  the  newer  settlers  had  built 
their  houses  and  established  town  government  and 
a  market,  Blackstone  used  to  ride  over  from  home 
on  a  steer,  broken  to  saddle,  to  chat  with  the  towns- 
folk, and  to  do  a  little  shopping.  No  doubt  a  pleasant 
spoken  young  bachelor  found  it  easy  to  get  a  few 

38 


•m 


LouiSBURG  Square;  Blackstone's  Spring  once  flowed 
here;  at  Number  Ten  lived  Louisa  M.  Alcott;  at 
Number  Four,  William  Dean  Howells;  Jenny  Lind 

was  married,    in    1852,    AT   NuMBER  TWENTY. 


Random    Notes  of   Boston 

with  her  bucket  to  a  spring  a  little  farther  east  where 
now  you  find  "Spring  Lane,"  a  thoroughfare  that 
has  maintained  its  ancient  identity  to  this  day,  while 

the  fount  itself  is  said  *'  ^'  -     ••••">"V  '^ \^h  a  sul)- 

terranean  channel. 

In  1633  the  Town  of  Boston  set  aside  for  William 
Blackstone  fifty  acres  of  farm  and  woodland. 
Blackstone's  home  was  in  the  vicinity  of  the  present 
Louisburg  square.  Where  today  the  dignified  old 
streets  on  t?stern  slope  of  Beacon  Hill  drop 

sedately  down  towards  Charles  River  Basin,  he 
raised    apples    and    ros^  'lackstoue    has    been 

called  the  "First  Inhabiiaiu  4)f  Boston,  and  some 
have  referred  to  him  as  the  "Hermit  of  Shawmut. " 
Oxford  bred,  and  in  the  neighborho^xl  '>f  if  ^^> -five 
years  old,  one  w^onders  how  this  shy  vo  -ao 

found  courage  to  leave  home  and  =  ■aty 

life  in  the  wilderness,  and  why.    ii  /en 

a  sort  of  Puritan  Robinson  Crusoe, 

The  Wlnthrop  party  found  hiiv  all 

he  surveyed,"  a  frockless  pastor,  preitidung  Lender 
sermons  of  friendliness  to  th^  '   creatures  and 

living  the  simple  life  alone  among  dis  orchards  and 
rosebushes.  When  the  newer  settlers  had  built 
their  houses  and  established  town  government  and 
a  market,  Blackstone  used  to  ride  over  from  home 
on  a  steer,  broken  to  saddle,  to  chat  with  the  towns- 
folk, and  to  do  a  little  shopping.    No  doubt  a  pleasant 

cmiJ  Y;iM3i;  ;2JJ3woH  KAag^^AijjiV/  ,^o1.  aaanuVl 
.YTM3WT  aaaMuM  -fX'  ,s^8i  m  .am^^Aii  8aw 


".ii^  . 


Random   Notes  of   Boston 

stockings  mended  or  a  button  sewed  on.  He  was 
certainly  entitled  to  some  consideration,  since  he  had 
been  unquestioned  proprietor  of  the  seven  hundred 
acres  of  dry  land  on  Shawmut  promontory. 

Some  vision  of  the  future  growth  of  urban  Boston 
prompted  the  town  fathers  to  look  twice  at  the 
acreage  allotted  to  Blacks  tone,  for  within  a  year 
they  bought  all  but  six  acres  back  from  him  for  one 
hundred  and  fifty  dollars,  and  reserved  it  as  a 
"common"  for  pasturage,  and  a  "training  ground." 
In  1640  the  town  decided  that  no  portion  of  it  should 
ever  be  granted  to  an  individual  for  homestead  or 
garden. 

On  or  near  the  Blacks  tone  property  on  West  Hill, 
later  lived  Copley,  the  painter,  John  Phillips,  first 
Mayor  of  Boston,  John  Lothrop  Motley,  the  his- 
torian, the  Reverend  Doctor  Channing,  and  the 
patriots  Otis  and  Prescott.  Much  of  West  Hill — 
or  Copley's  Hill — one  of  the  original  three  knolls 
that  gave  the  height  its  name,  Tri-mount  (Tremont) 
was  dug  away  to  help  extend  the  dry  land  at  the 
edge  of  Back  Bay  and  make  possible  the  building  of 
Charles  street. 

On  the  eastern  slope  of  another  of  the  three 
peaks  dwelt  the  Reverend  John  Cotton,  and  with 
him,  for  a  time.  Sir  Henry  Vane,  "boy  governor" 
of  the  Massachusetts  Bay  Company  at  twenty-four. 
Sir  Henry  presently  went  back  to  England,  where, 
in  time,  he  died  violently  from  too  much  mixing  of 

40 


Park  Street;  at  the  Extreme  Left,  Ticknor  House 
i«04.    Lodgings  of  Lafayette  m  1824.    Oncf  the 
Home  of  George  Ticknor,  the  Historian.    Beyond 
THE  Spire  of  Park  Street  Church  ^    ' 


R 

stockings  rnendf  buttoi  He  was 

certainly  entitled  to  some  consideration,  since  he  had 
iinquestioned  proprietor  of  the  seven  hundred 
acit^s  of  dry  land  on  Shawn lut  promonto'  ^ 

Some  vision  of  the  future  growth  of  url'in  oo-uin 
prompted  the  town  fathers  to  look  twice  at  the 
acreage  allotted  to  Blacks  tone,  for  within  a  year 
they  bought  all  but  six  acres  back  from  him  for  one 
hundred  and  fifty  dollars,  and  reserved  it  as  a 
"common"  for  pasturage,  and  a  "training  ground." 
In  1640  the  town  decided  that  no  portion  of  it  should 
ever  be  granted  to  an  individual  for  homestead  or 
garden. 

On  or  near  the  Blacks  tone  property  or  ''        "Ti - 
later  lived  Copley,  the  painter,  John   "'' 
Mayor  of  Boston,  John  Lothrop  Mi.u  ;u— 

torian,  the  Reverend  Doctor  Channiri;.,  ....:.  the 
patriots  Otis  and  Prescott.  Much  of  West  Hill — 
or  Copley's  Hill — one  of  the  original  three  knolls 
that  gave  the  height  its  name,  Tri-mount  (Tremont) 
was  dug  away  to  help  extend  the  dry  land  at  the 
edge  of  Back  Bay  and  make  possible  the  building  of 
Charles  street. 

On   the  eastern  slope  of  another  of  the  three 

peaks  dwelt  the  Reverend  John  Cotton,  and'  with 

him,  for  a  time,  Sir  Heury  Vane,  "boy  governor" 

of  the  Massachusetts  Bay  Company  at  twenty-four. 

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amx.  aoMU    .hsSj  ra ,  axxsYAiA J  lo  aoraqaoJ.  ..j^o8i,. 


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Random   Notes  of   Boston 

religion  and  politics.  Cotton  Hill,  later  called 
Pemberton  Hill,  was,  like  the  other  two  peaks, 
dug  away  in  time. 

Park  street,  as  we  know  it,  came  in  1640  by  the 
name  of  "Gentry"  or  "Sentry  street,"  and  led  up 
to  the  third,  or  "Sentry  Hill,"  which  stood  some 
six  or  seven  score  feet  above  harbor  level.  About 
this  time  the  powers  back  home  talked  of  lifting 
the  Massachusetts  Bay  Company's  charter,  but 
when  demand  was  made  for  it,  shrewd  John  Winthrop 
fashioned  sundry  excuses,  to  wit,  he  had  lost  the 
key  to  his  desk,  or  had  mislaid  the  document,  or 
some  such  sufficient  cause  of  delay;  and  meanwhile, 
against  the  day  when  the  King  should  send  an 
armed  agent  to  require  the  charter,  the  colonists 
set  up  a  "beacon"  on  the  height — a  sort  of  mast, — 
with  a  great  suspended  kettle  near  the  top,  and 
rungs  to  climb  it  withal.  Guards  watched  the  ocean 
for  the  mastheads  of  unfriendly  ships,  and  planned 
to  kindle  a  fire,  not  under,  but  in  the  kettle,  to  warn 
the  countryside.  But  so  long  as  the  beacon  stood — 
certainly  until  1789 — no  alarm  fire  is  recorded. 

Charles  Bullfinch,  architect  of  our  present  State 
House,  designed  a  monument  to  replace  the  old 
beacon,  and  this  was  set  up  in  1790,  and  stood 
until  1811,  when  "somebody  moved  the  hill."  It 
ought  not  to  have  been  done,  but  gravel  was  at  a 
premium.  On  July  4,  1795,  the  corner  stone  of  the 
new  State  House  was  laid  with  Masonic  ceremonies 

42 


Derne  Street  Terraces  of  the  State  House,  Beacon 
Hill.  Top  of  the  Beacon  Memorial,  set  up  to 
commemorate  the  Old  Beacon  or  "Gentry." 


IVmberton  liiM 

Talk  .^aeel    as  we  know  it,  came  in  KJJ-' 
namr     '  '■ '  "  or  *' Sentry  street 

to  the  liuiu;  ui  .-i^entry  Hill,*'  whicu  m.u.mi  ,v.i:r- 
six  or  seven  score  feet  above  harbor  level.  About 
this  time  the  powers  back  home  talked  of  lifting 
vlassachusetts  Bay  Company's  charter,  but 
when  demand  was  made  for  it.  shrewd  John  Winthrop 
fashioned  sundry  excii  \'.i     he  had  lost  the 

key  to  his  desk,  or  had  mislaid  the  document,  or 
some  such  sufficient  ff  delav  ii while, 

against  the   day   whti  *'  ^    an 

armed  agent  to  requii 
set  up  a  "beacon"  on  tu 
with  a  great  suspended   k,    ,  ,     . 
rungs  to  climb  it  withal.    Guards  wat 
for  the  mastheads  of  unfriendly  shij)  ilanned 

to  kindle  a  fire,  not  under,  })ul 

the  countryside.    But  so  long  as  the  beacon  stood — 
certainly  until  1789 — no  alarm,  fire  is  recorded. 

Charles  Bullfinch,  architect  of  our  present  State 
House,  designed  a  monument  to  replace  the  old 
beacon,  and  this  was  set  up  in  1790,  and  stood 
until  1811,  when  "somebody  moved  the  hill."  It 
ought  not  to  have  been  done,  but  gravel  was  at  a 
premium.  On  July  4,  1795,  the  corner  stone  of  the 
ii©SA:Saa|aaft)iitlse™'B8  tod  m{h3M^i93fRcTsmii^cmm(I 

OT    qu     T38    ,JAIiIOMaM    MOOASa    SHT     10   qoT       .JJlH 

''.YaxMaO''  ao  vooA^Q  qjO  sht  axAiioMaMMOo 


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Random   Notes  of   Boston 

and  when  the  monument  came  down  its  memorial 
tablets  were  filed  away  in  the  State  House  basement. 
Later,  public  spirit  reincarnated  the  monument  and 
set  the  tablets  in  its  base.  It  stands  today  on  a  spot, 
which,  in  everything  but  altitude,  corresponds  with 
the  location  of  its  original. 

House-lot  prices  languished  in  those  early  years 
on  "Tri-mount. "  One  would  hardly  care  to  build 
on  a  lot  while  one's  next  neighbor  industriously  dug 
and  hauled  away  his  land  to  help  fill  up  a  Mill  Pond 
or  a  Great  Cove,  until  one's  home  stood  on  the  verge 
of  a  gravelly  precipice.  Beacon  (Sentry)  Hill  so  long 
as  it  stood  constituted  a  commanding  lookout.  Here 
came  the  people  in  crowds  to  watch  Lord  Percy's 
honey-combed  battalions  trail  back  pver  the  distant 
roads  into  Charlestown,  after  "A  Day  in  Concord 
and  Lexington,"  April  19,  1775.  Here  a  few  weeks 
later,  June  17,  the  same  throng  stood  with  strained 
and  anxious  eyes  to  note  the  powder-and-bayonet 
argument  on  Breed's  Hill  and  the  burning  of  Charles- 
town.  In  those  days,  too,  the  early  "  seeing-America- 
first"  enthusiasts  admired  Massachusetts  Bay  from 
the  foot  of  the  beacon,  and  compared  it  with  the 
well-know^n  bay  of  Naples,  to  the  great  disadvantage 
of  the  latter. 

John  Hancock,  supposed  by  many  young  persons 
to  be  the  inventor  of  the  autograph  for  use  in  the 
manufacture  of  Important  Documents,  lived  mag- 
nificently on  Beacon  Hill  in  a  house  built  by  his 

44 


Rear  of  thei  Athenaeum,  overlooking  Old  Granary 
Burying  Groltnd.    Built  as  a  Gallery  and  Library 
Contains  many  Rare  Books  and  Collections,  in- 
cluding a  Large   Part  of   George   Washington's 
Private  Library.    A  Famous  Literary  Centre 


Random   Noti  Boston 

vhen  the  moiiurneiit  came  down  its  memorial 
till) It' is  were  filed  away  in  the  State  House  basement. 
Later,  public  spirit  reincarnated  the  monun>eiit  and 
set  the  tablets  in  its  base.  Jt  stands  today  on  a  sp(jt. 
which,  in  everything  but  a'*'^'*'l<v  <-i»rr<^iw,i..k  Aiin 
the  location  of  its  origina] 

House-lot  prices  languished  in  those  early  years 
on  "Tri-mount. "  One  would  hardly  care  to  t)uild 
on  ;i  lot  while  one's  next  neighbor  industriously  dug 
and  hauled  away  his  land  to  help  fill  up  a  Mill  Pond 
or  a  Great  Cove,  until  one's  home  stood  on  the  verge 
of  a  gravelly  precipice.  Beacon  (Sentry)  Hill  so  long 
as  it  stood  constituted  a  commanding  lookout.  Here 
came  the  people  in  crowds  to  wateli  Lord  Percy's 
honey-combed  battahon-^  Uu\\  ^5i<<l  ,m  ,  r  f]  ,•  ,i;<tant 
roads  into  Charlestow]  i>r<I 

and  Lexington,"  April 
later,  Jui;  he  sani 

and  anxious  ey-  )wder-;- 

argument  on  Breed's  Hili  and  the  burning  of  Charles- 
town.  In  those  daj^s,  too,  the  early  "seeing-America- 
first"  enthusiasts  admired  Massachusetts  Bay  from 
the  foot  of  the  beacon,  and  compared  it  with  the 

well-known  bay  of  Nap]'      ^<    '•■     ^ ^^  -Ifsadvantage 

of  tlie  latter. 

John  Hancock,  supposed  by  many  young  persons 
to  be  the  inventor  of  the  autograph  for  use  in  the 

-m  ,8MOiT3ajJo3  oma  a^ooa  aiiAil  yviam  aviiAtMoD 

a'viOTOraHaAW   aoaoaO   ^pi  tslaI  aoaAJ  a  ovnoujo 

.aaxMaO  Y^AaaxiJ  auoMA'i  A    .Y^L^aaiJ  aTAVia^ 


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Random   Notes  of   Boston 

uncle,  Thomas  Hancock,  in  1737,  one  of  the  earHest, 
if  not  the  first,  of  the  more  pretentious  edifices  in  the 
vicinity. 

It  was  the  executive  mansion  from  1780  until 
1793,  excepting  two  years,  for  John  Hancock  became 
first  constitutional  governor  of  Massachusetts. 
Efforts  to  preserve  the  old  house  were  unavailing, 
and  it  was  demolished,  to  be  replaced  by  modern 
dwellings,  after  having  stood  considerably  over  a 
century. 

In  the  face  of  the  development  of  the  Back  Bay 
as  a  select  residential  section,  most  of  which  has 
taken  place  in  the  last  fifty  years.  Beacon  Hill 
today  retains  its  fine  distinction,  both  of  aspect  and 
atmosphere.  There  is  always  a  certain  scorn  among 
hill  people  for  dwellers  upon  low  ground.  Heed  the 
words  of  the  father  of  Phillips  Brooks,  who,  himself 
but  recently  come  thither,  wrote  in  1868,  in  a  letter 
to  his  distinguished  son: 

"It  is  an  old  house  and  there  is  a  good  deal  to  do 
to  it.  It  is  one  you  will  feel  just  as  much  at  home  in 
as  at  High  street  or  Chauncy  street.  Nothing  '  stuck- 
up'  about  it;  like  all  our  other  houses,  'neat  but  not 
gaudy;  not  like  the  houses  on  the  Back  Bay,  where 
the  people  go  out  in  the  morning  to  find  the  door- 
steps have  sunk  out  of  sight;  but  it  is  on  the  solid 
hardpan  of  Beacon  Hill,  original  soil;  street  named 
from  the  old  John  Hancock." 


THE  OLD  CITY. 


Rear  of  King's  Chapel,  School  Street,  built  in  1754, 
THE  Official  Chltich  of  the  Royal  Govt:rnors  in 
Provincial  Days.  The  First  King's  Chapel,  on 
THIS  Site,  was  the  First  Episcopal  Church  in  New 
England;  now  Unitarian. 


V  n 


n^iv 


rhomas  Hancock,  in  1737,  one  of  tne  earliest, 
if  not  the  first,  of  the  more  pretentious  edifices  in  the 
vicinity. 

It  was  the  executive  mansion  from  i/.?>o  until 
1793,  excepting  two  years,  for  John  Hancock  became 
first  constitutional  governor  of  Massachusetts. 
Efforts  to  preserve  the  old  house  were  unavailing, 
and  it  was  demolished,  replaced  by  modern 

dwellings,  after  having  stood  considerably  over  a 
century. 

In  the  face  of  the  development  of  the  Back  Bay 
as  a  select  residential  section,  most  of  which  has 
taken  place  in  the  last  fifty  years.  Beacon  Hill 
today  retains  its  fine  distinction,  both  of  aspect  and 
atmosphere.  There  is  always  a  certain  scorn  amon^g 
hill  people  for  dwellers  upon  low  j^.t:  ■  <;  Jh^-A  the 
words  of  the  father  of  Phillip*  .  self 

but  recently  come  thither,  wrote  in  18  i  letter 

to  his  distinguished  son: 

"It  is  an  old  house  and  there  is  a  good  deal  to  do 
to  it.  It  is  one  you  wnll  feel  just  as  much  at  home  in 
as  at  High  street  or  Chauncy  street.  Nothing  'stuck- 
up'  about  it;  like  all  our  other  houses,  'neat  but  not 
gaudy;  not  like  the  houses  on  the  Back  Bay,  where 
the  people  go  out  in  the  morning  to  find  the  door- 
steps have  sunk  out  of  sight;    but  it  is  on  the  solid 

m.    'aiL0'/iSl3Y<^0  jIAYOSL   3HT    U0,,H0iTUH3    JAIOIIlO   aHT 

waM  MI  HoaxruD  JA«ioo2i«ia  xaail  anx  2aw  ^axiS  aiHx 

.KALaAXmU    WOM    jOHAJOMa 


THE  OLD  CITY. 


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C EVER A J 

were  resiuenU  of  ike  uid  tov'. 
land,  and  John  Cotton,  msnister  o^  . 
of  Christ,  in  New  Englatid,  had  b« 
Botolph's  church  at  home.    The  ne. 
Shawmut    promontory    was    named 
official  decision  on  September  7,  IC 
comfort  in  that,  a  sort  of  anchoring  final 
the  colonists  could  assure  themselves  t; 
they  had  gotten  somewhere, 

Winthrop  had  his  first  Boston  hum 
the  path  to  the  waterside  from  wh^   ' 
(now  State)  street,  but  subsequently  -  ..,,.,..,- 

ing  on   a  lot  at  the  present  corner  .hiivjlr.-n 

and  Milk  streets.     Beside  it   was    r 
South  Meeting  House.    The  "Greai 
from  the  ground  a  few  steps  to  th 

10  MOiTMavaaS;  3HT  iio-i  Yxai'DoS  STTaguTHOAaaAM  am 

^Q      .8JAMmA  OT  YTjauaD 


f ., 


ir 


Facade  of  the  General  Post  Office-;  Angell  Memorial 
Fountain,  erected  in  Honor  of  the  Founder  of 
THE  Massachusetts  Society  for  the  Prevention  of 
Cruelty  to  Animals. 


IV. 


THE  OLD  CITY. 

Several  of  Governor  Winthrop's  followers 
were  residents  of  the  old  town  of  Boston,  Eng- 
land, and  John  Cotton,  minister  of  the  First  Church 
of  Christ,  in  New  England,  had  been  vicar  of  St. 
Botolph's  church  at  home.  The  new  settlement  on 
Shawmut  promontory  was  named  "Boston"  by 
official  decision  on  September  7,  1630.  There  was 
comfort  in  that,  a  sort  of  anchoring  finality,  whereby 
the  colonists  could  assure  themselves  that,  at  last, 
they  had  gotten  somewhere. 

Winthrop  had  his  first  Boston  home  set  up  by 
the  path  to  the  waterside  from  which  grew  King 
(now  State)  street,  but  subsequently  occupied  a  dwell- 
ing on  a  lot  at  the  present  corner  of  Washington 
and  Milk  streets.  Beside  it  was  reared  the  Old 
South  Meeting  House.  The  "Great  Spring"  boiled 
from  the  ground  a  few  steps  to  the  east.  All  the 
dwellings  were  primitively  rough.  The  governor 
rebuked  one  of  his  neighbors  who,  for  the  sake  of 

49 


Random   Notes  of   Boston 

warmth,  lined  his  living-room  with  a  sheathing  of 
plank,  in  the  form  of  a  wainscot.  It  savored  of 
waste,  and  sinful  pride.  The  roofs  were  thatched, 
very  likely  with  the  tough,  rank  grass  or  rushes  from 
the  salt  marshes,  and  the  chimneys  were  of  logs,  laid 
crosswise,  and  chinked  with  clay.  Later  a  saw-mill 
was  built  on  Mill  Creek,  which  connected  the  Mill 
Pond  with  Town  Cove,  and,  as  were  the  grist  mills, 
was  actuated  by  the  current  of  the  tide- water.  The 
promontory  was  not  heavily  timbered,  so  most  of 
the  lumber  must  have  been  floated  over  from  the 
mainland. 

The  first  volume  of  town  records,  so  far  as  we 
know,  was  started  in  September,  1634,  in  a  hand  said 
to  be  Winthrop's.  These  records  were  destroyed 
or  so  badly  mutilated  that  no  authentic  vital  statis- 
tics of  that  early  period  are  available.  At  the  end 
of  seventy  years  the  population  of  Boston  did  not 
exceed  seven  thousand  souls.  There  were  disas- 
trous fires,  the  first  in  1654,  which  wiped  out  whole 
groups  of  dweUings.  That  of  1678  destroyed  eighty 
houses,  and  other  property,  to  the  value  of  £200,000. 
Afterwards,  more  heed  was  given  the  possibility  of 
fires,  but  brick  and  stone  construction  did  not 
become  general  for  many  years. 

The  development  of  the  town  followed  a  line 
north  and  south,  represented,  approximately,  by  the 
present  Washington  street.  Naturally,  too,  the 
settlement  clung  close  to  the  harbor  lip,  for  in  so 

50 


Washington  Street,  looking  South.  On  the  Lept, 
THE  Old  South  Meeting  House,  Corner  of  Milk 
Street,  built  1729.  At  Extreme  Left  is  the  Site 
OF  Governor  John  Winthrop's  House. 


\oTKS  OF   Boston 

Aannth,  liiieti  inn  living-room  with  a  sheathing  of 
plank,  in  the  form  of  a  wainscot.  Tt  savored  of 
waste,  and  sinful  pride.  The  roofs  were  thatche<l, 
very  likely  with  the  tough,  rank  grass  or  rushes  from 
the  salt  marshes,  and  the  chimneys  were  of  logs,  laid 
crosswise,  and  (chinked  with  clay.  Later  a  saw-mill 
was  built  on  Mill  Creek,  which  connected  the  Mill 
Pond  with  Town  Cove,  and,  as  were  the  grist  mills, 
was  actuated  by  the  current  of  the  tide-water.  The 
promontory  was  not  heavily  timbered,  so  most  of 
the  lumber  must  have  been  floated  over  from  the 
mainland. 

The  first  voluuje  ni  tuwii  rti.'jL-a.s,  ,s<»  lar  as  we 
know,  was  starte'^  ■'  '"^-'">tember,  1^^'-  *  ■'  a  hand  said 
to  be  W  inthrop  .  .  -«- 
or  so  badly  mutilated  I ' 
tics  of  that  early  perio' 
of  seventy  years  the  p* 
exceed  seven  thou.san(i 
trous  fires,  the  first  in  lt)d4 
groups  of  dw^ellings.  That  of  1<>78  destroyed  eighty 
houses,  and  other  property,  to  the  value  of  £i200,000. 
x\fterwards,  more  heed  was  given  the  possibility  of 
fires,  but  brick  and  stone  c^' >.!  .v  i^vj-j  (jfd  ^iqi 
become  general  for  many  years. 

The  development  of  the  town  followed  a  line 
north  and  south,  represented,  approximately,  by  the 
pres^^l J  W#*h  i;0gtoisi-«t(D6eto>i  rM&hinaM^^T^o&pT&m^^AlJ 


re 

f'OTv  : 

(U^<- 

itroyed 
statis- 

^  ailablt 

"nd 

=f  Bosi. 

ere 

disas- 
whole 

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I 


islanded  a  locaiiou 
upon  ma 

for   the   aineiuLies 
Roxbury  and  the  S^'ui, 
fi  tenuous  ii! anient  ^»f 
!he    terror     presunt 
t<'  ha  •  shed  h 

length. 

alack. 
.   this  poinl   noii. 
■  :  ijoylston  street  the 
Washington  street,  wa- 
to  tiie  head  of  Sunimei 
section  from  Summer 
and  Corn  Hill  took  i. 
and  carried  it  to  the  foot 
which  was  then  Market  stre< 
led  to  the  market  district  abc 
From  a  ten-story  building 
as  high  as  the  old  Pembert<? 
which  it  marks,  you  can  look  *> 
portion    of   the    old   city.      ^ 
ofHc<'  building-  you  see  tlu 
called    \hv  0!.|   ^^ate   H<v: 
King 

stead,  to  be  replace' 
built  by  privat' 

STATS   QJO  aHT  ,THOI>i  s^^i    lA   -JaAll   JlJ.i'/iA'i   ^ii^J 


The  Old  City  from  Pemberton  Square.  Brattle 
Street,  Cornhill  and  Court  Street;  at  Distant 
Left,  Faneuil  Hall;  at  the  Right,  the  Old  State 
House.    Beyond,  the  Harbor,  and  East  Boston. 


The  Old  City 

islanded  a  location  the  citizens  must  depend  largely 
upon  maritime  traffic  for  the  necessaries  as  well  as 
for  the  amenities  of  life.  Communication  with 
Roxbury  and  the  South  Shore  lay  over  Boston  Neck, 
a  tenuous  filament  of  terra  firma,  with  the  stress  on 
the  terror,  presumably,  since  persons  are  known 
to  have  perished  in  trying  to  follow  its  treacherous 
length.  Near  what  is  now  Dover  street,  the  towns- 
men set  up  a  rough  fortification  in  view  of  possible 
Indian  attack.  No  such  assault  ever  occurred. 
From  this  point  northward  to  the  present  corner 
of  Boylston  street  the  "Highway  to  Roxbury,"  now 
Washington  street,  was  named  Orange  street;  thence 
to  the  head  of  Summer,  it  was  called  Newbery;  the 
section  from  Summer  to  School  was  Marlborough; 
and  Corn  Hill  took  up  the  burden  at  that  point 
and  carried  it  to  the  foot  of  the  Cornhill  of  today, 
which  was  then  Market  street,  so-called  because  it 
led  to  the  market  district  about  the  Town  Dock. 

From  a  ten-story  building  in  Pemberton  square, 
as  high  as  the  old  Pemberton  Hill  the  location  of 
which  it  marks,  you  can  look  off  across  a  considerable 
portion  of  the  old  city.  Pocketed  by  towering 
office  buildings  you  see  the  little  Town  House,  since 
called  the  Old  State  House,  holding  the  head  of 
King  (now  State)  street.  There  was  the  market 
stead,  to  be  replaced  by  the  first  Town  House,  1657, 
built  by  private  subscription  supplementing  a  legacy 
of  Captain  Robert  Keayne,  who  lived  on  the  corner 

53 


Random   Notes  of   Boston 

of  King  street  and  Old  Corn  Hill,  just  south  of  it. 
Captain  Keayne  commanded  the  Honorable  Artillery 
Company,  today  Ancient  as  well  as  Honorable,  the 
earliest  of  our  citizen-soldiery.  In  front  of  the  old 
Town  House  you  may  drink  at  the  city's  expense 
from  an  automatic  fountain;  but  do  not  seek  a 
relationship  between  it  and  the  Town  Pump  that 
stood  near  this  point  in  Colonial  times.  Fire  de- 
stroyed the  first  Town  House,  which  was  of  wood; 
and  the  second,  a  brick  building  on  the  same  site, 
was  erected  in  1713,  to  be  burned  in  1747,  with 
many  of  its  priceless  records.  The  town  rebuilt  it 
on  the  ruins  of  the  old  structure,  a  substantial  part 
of  the  walls  of  which  had  remained  in  place.  Here, 
at  different  times,  both  town  and  state  governments 
held  meetings.  The  city  government  used  Faneuil 
Hall  for  many  years,  and  from  1830  to  1840  met 
in  the  Old  State  House. 

A  portion  of  the  North  End  appears  in  the  view 
from  the  top  of  the  Boston  Globe  building,  looking 
north  along  Washington  street.  Again  you  have 
a  glimpse  of  the  Old  State  House.  Where,  at  the 
extreme  left,  you  see  the  Sears  building,  John  Coggan 
had  a  shop,  the  first  in  Boston.  In  those  days,  if  a 
shopkeeper  inclined  to  elevate  the  cost  of  living,  his 
clientele  found  legal  curbs  to  check  his  avarice;  and 
our  friend  Keayne,  who  was  a  tailor,  "fell  under  the 
censure  of  court  and  church  for  selling  his  wares  at 
exorbitant  profits." 

54 


Washington  Street  (Old  Corn  Hill)  looking  North. 
Towers  of  St.  Mary's.  Beyond,  the  North  End- 
Bunker  Hill  Monument.  ' 


of  King  street  and  Old  Corn  Hill,  just  soutli  of  it. 
Captain  Keayne  commanded  the  Honorable  Artillery 
Company,  today  Ancient  as  well  as  Honorable,  the 
earliest  of  our  citizen-soldiery.  In  front  of  the  old 
Town  House  you  may  drink  at  the  city's  expense 
from  an  automatic  fountain;  but  do  not  seek  a 
relationship  between  it  and  the  Town  Pump  that 
stood  near  this  point  in  Colonial  times.  Fire  de- 
stroyed the  first  Town  House,  which  was  of  wood; 
and  the  second,  a  brick  building  on  the  same  site, 
was  erected  in  171o  '  burned  in  1747,  with 

many  of  its  priceless  records.  The  town  rebuilt  it 
on  the  ruins  of  the  old  structure,  a  substantial  part 
of  the  walls  of  which  had  remained  in  |)lace.  Here, 
at  different  times,  both  town  and  state  governments 
held  meetings.  The  city  goyernrn*^'''!  -■•^^d  Faneuil 
Hall  for  many  years,  and  from    !  1840  met 

in  the  Old  State  House. 

A  portion  of  the  North  End  appears  in  the  view 
from  the  top  of  the  Boston  Globe  building,  looking 
north  along  Washington  street.  Again  you  liave 
a  glimpse  of  the  Old  State  House.  Where,  at  the 
extreme  left,  you  see  the  Sears  building,  John  Coggan 
had  a  shop,  the  first  in  Boston.  In  those  days,  if  a 
shopkeeper  inclined  to  elevate  the  cost  of  living,  his 
clientele  found  legal  curbs  to  check  his  avarice;  and 
our  friend  Keayne,  who  was  a  tailor,  "fell  under  the 
censure  of  court  and  church  for  selling  his  wares  at 

\(m^  HTiioVT  aHT  jCmGYaa     .sVaAM  .t8  to  aiiawoT 


•'!.*  :,.«r^'C:ri?^t-A^ 


^%',l«Uj|il«A^->> 


■  >->>«^, . 


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if" 


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T. 


Court  street 
prison  glooaied  ^Micre  ua: 
the  municipaHty  has  lateh 
1719,   Wilhai      TX.-,v>ker,   td 


the  Boston 

and  PT^iT 

to  print 

pr^'^af'T-  - 

of  the  publi 

C  our  ant.    T) 

rig  anr- 

Jamc^ 

he   beat   the 

yoimg  Benj}^ 

iomer. 

f>ul)lisher.    1 

4-L  ;„.. 

17^1. 

The  ''bigger, 

r  and  b 

lu 


i  MllS^l{"'^'? 


years  would  have  been  equally  app- 

Franklin  had  thought  to  apply  it  to  B- 

columns  of  his  paper,  for  thecommurn 

fast,   and,   as   rebuilding   succeeded   ear 

conflagration,  its  architecture  and  arran 

proved.    The  characterization  '*busie    " 

been  particularly  happy.    The  colonist? 

and  warehouses,  docks,  wharves  an*l   ' 

laid    keels    and    launched    ships,    tra.  .  . 

commodities    of   life,    talked    politics    m 

baited    governors  -  in    fact,    conduc 

much  as  w^e  do  in  the  matter  of  hu- 

and,  considering  wliat  they  had  i 

plished  more 

Regard,  as  a  sample  citizen  of  Fr;-vtiu:iai  i.t;i\:-. 
aHT  TA  ,Taa^T8  aoviivoa*!  oxra  aqaxS  xaaaxS  Hxaowaoa 
.asuoH  3.Dm<iosL^  ao  axi8  anx  ao  aAail 


BoswoRTH  Street  Steps  into  Province  Street,  at  the 
Rear  or  the  Site  of  Province  House. 


The   Old  City 

Court  street  was  "Prison  Lane,"  and  the  old 
prison  gloomed  where  the  tall  new  office-building  of 
the  municipality  has  lately  risen.  In  this  vicinity,  in 
1719,  William  Brooker,  the  postmaster,  published 
the  Boston  Gazette  and  employed  James  Franklin 
to  print  it.  Afterward,  James  harked  to  the  buzz 
of  the  publishing  bee  and  started  the  New  England 
Courant.  The  buzzing  annoyed  the  authorities,  and 
James  was  enjoined  from  publishing  his  paper,  so 
he  beat  the  devil  about  the  stump  by  permitting 
young  Benjamin,  his  brother,  to  attach  his  name  as 
publisher.  This  was  the  third  newspaper  in  Boston, 
1721. 

The  "bigger,  better  and  busier"  slogan  of  recent 
years  would  have  been  equally  appropriate  if  Ben 
Franklin  had  thought  to  apply  it  to  Boston  in  the 
columns  of  his  paper,  for  the  community  was  growing 
fast,  and,  as  rebuilding  succeeded  each  sweeping 
conflagration,  its  architecture  and  arrangement  im- 
proved. The  characterization  "busier"  would  have 
been  particularly  happy.  The  colonists  built  houses 
and  warehouses,  docks,  wharves  and  fortifications, 
laid  keels  and  launched  ships,  traflficked  in  the 
commodities  of  life,  talked  politics  and  religion, 
baited  governors — in  fact,  conducted  themselves 
much  as  we  do  in  the  matter  of  hustle  and  bustle, 
and,  considering  what  they  had  to  do  with,  accom- 
plished more. 

Regard,  as  a  sample  citizen  of  Provincial  days, 

51 


Random   Notes  of   Boston 

Colonel  Paul  Revere.  When  you  know  him  a  little 
better,  you  will  see  that,  if  lacking  Franklin's  great- 
ness, he  was  in  many  respects  not  unlike  him.  Artist, 
poet,  printer,  inventor,  mechanic,  soldier  and  patriot, 
Revere  was  the  Leonardo  da  Vinci  of  New  England. 
The  versatile  Leonardo  invented  the  wheelbarrow. 
Revere  devised  a  gun-carriage;  Leonardo  painted 
the  "Last  Supper,"  Revere  drew  rude  but  graphic 
caricatures,  cartoons  of  his  time,  comparable  in 
effect,  if  not  in  drawing,  to  those  of  Nast  or  Keppler. 
Boston  holds  one  thing  against  Franklin,  namely, 
his  quitting  it  for  Philadelphia;  Revere  stuck  to  it. 
Franklin  shed  lustre  upon  Boston  by  being  born  here; 
indeed,  if  all  historians  say  truly,  he  doubly  honored 
his  native  town,  since  he  was  born  once  on  Hanover 
street,  near  Marshall's  Lane  and  the  Boston  Stone, 
and  once  in  a  small  two-story  house  on  Milk  street. 
Revere  plausibly  parallels  this  achievement,  never- 
theless ;  for  he  twice  rode  to  Lexington,  and  the  first  of 
these  journeys,  though  never  set  to  music,  was  the 
more  important.  On  Sunday,  April  16,  he  visited 
Adams  and  Hancock  at  the  home  of  Reverend 
Doctor  Clark,  reporting  what  the  Sons  of  Liberty 
had  learned  about  the  British  intentions.  There 
was  no  doubt  that  the  supplies  stored  at  Concord 
would  tempt  General  Gage,  and  it  remained  only  to 
warn  the  countryside  of  the  exact  time  of  the  de- 
parture of  the  troops.  This  Revere  did  upon  the 
occasion    of    the    famous    dash    from    Charlestown. 

58 


Marshall's  Lane;  the  Boston  Stone,  formerly  Part 
OF  A  Paint  Mill,  set  ltp  in  1737  as  a  Waymark.  At 
Right,  Office  of  Ebenezer  Hancock,  Brother  of 
John  Hancock,  and  Paymaster  of  the  Revolution. 


B 


nSTON 


C'olouel  Paul  Revere.  When  you  know  him  a  little 
better,  you  will  see  tha  king  Franklin's  great- 

ness, he  was  in  many  respecu  not  unlike  him.  Artist, 
poet,  printer,  inventor,  mechanic,  soldier  and  patriot, 
Revere  was  the  Leonardo  da  Vinci  of  New  England. 
The  versatile  I^eoiiardo  invented  the  wheelbarrow. 
Revere  devised  a  gun-carriage:  Leonardo  painted 
the  "Last  Supper,"  Revere  drew  rude  but  graphic 
caricatures,  cartoons  of  his  time,  comparable  in 
efT'  hi  drawing,  to  those  of  Nast  or  Keppler. 

Boston  holds  one  thing  against  Franklin,  namely, 
his  quitting  it  for  Philadelphia;  Jlevere  stuck  to  it. 
Franklin  shed  lustre  upon  Boston  i>y  being  born  here; 
indeed,  if  all  historians  say  truly,  he  doubly  honored 
liife  native  town,  since  he  was  born  once  on  Hanover 
street,  near  MarshalF'  Larie  and  th--  Boston  Stone, 
and  once  in  a  small  ^ilk  street. 

Revere  plausibly  parall  •  r- 

theless ;    for  he  twice  red  and  the  first  of 

these  journeys,  though  vas  the 

more  important.     On    Sunday  16,  he  visited 

Adams   and   Hanco  "   Reverend 

Doctor  Clark,  report, lag  ivnai  uif  Sons  of  Liberty 
had  learned  about  the  British  intentions.  There 
was  no  doubt  that  the  supplies  stored  at  Concord 
would  tempt  General  Gage,  and  it  remained  only  to 
warn  the  countrvside  of  the  exact  time  of^  the  de- 

.vioiTUJOva^  aHT  10  aaxaAMYAS;  oka  ^xoodkaH  khoX 

58 


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I: 


Random   Notes  of   Boston 

William  Dawes,  stealing  out  over  Boston  Neck, 
reached  Lexington  half  an  hour  })ehind  Revere,  and 
together  they  went  on,  until  halted  by  a  mounted 
British  patrol.  Dawes  got  away;  so  did  young 
Prescott,  who  had  ridden  with  them  from  Lexington, 
and,  being  a  resident  of  Concord,  knew  a  little-fre- 
quented woods  path,  which  he  followed  to  safety, 
and  was  so  enabled  to  warn  the  people  of  the  im- 
pending invasion.  It  is  fitting  not  to  forget  these 
two,  particularly  since  to  do  so  subtracts  no  credit 
from  Revere. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  Paul  Revere  made  a  specialty 
of  the  "  message- to-Garcia  "  business.  When  he  had 
anything  to  do,  he  did  it,  and  seems  to  have  been 
singularly  tongue-tied  under  conditions  that  would 
have  brought,  from  most  men,  protesting  questions 
of  "why"  and  "wherefore."  His  ambition  was  to 
hold  a  commission  in  the  Continental  army;  he  had 
to  satisfy  himself  with  a  militia  appointment.  When, 
after  the  Revolution,  under  the  new  government. 
Patriotism  found  it  necessary  to  "do  something" 
for  poor  brother  Patronage,  Revere  would  have  liked 
a  federal  appointment.  Congressman  Ames,  to 
whom  he  applied,  rendered  him  the  polite  equivalent 
of  our  latter-day  "nothing  doing,"  so  the  Colonel 
decided  that  being  a  sterling  patriot  was  not  nearly 
so  nourishing  as  the  sordid  pursuit  of  trade. 

Besides  the  Midnight  Ride,  Paul  Revere  made 
good  his  claim  to  useful  citizenship  by  many  and 

60 


The  Old  City 

varied  activities  and  achievements.  He  made 
copper-plate  engravings,  drew  and  engraved  at  least 
two  harbor-front  views  of  Boston,  practised  den- 
tistry, fitting  false  teeth  "  in  such  a  manner  that  they 
are  not  only  an  Ornament,  but  of  real  Use  in  Speaking 
and  Eating;''  served  the  patriot  cause  as  official 
messenger,  commanded  an  artillery  train  in  charge 
of  the  Castle  (now  Fort  Independence),  invented 
a  gun-carriage  at  the  request  of  General  Washington, 
imprinted  "soldiers'  notes,"  a  form  of  continental 
tender,  kept  a  goldsmith's  shop,  established  a  bell- 
foundry,  engraved  the  seal  of  the  Commonw^ealth, 
manufactured  the  copper  hardware  for  the  frigate 
"Constitution,"  and  the  sheathing  with  which  she 
was  bottomed;  also  made  many  tons  of  copper 
products  for  the  government,  and  the  sheeting 
which  covered  the  dome  of  the  new  State  House  on 
Beacon  Hill ;  and  he  assisted,  as  Grand  Master  of  the 
Freemasons  of  Massachusetts,  in  laying  the  corner 
stone  of  that  building,  July  4,  1795.  He  lived  to  be 
eighty-four  years  old,  and,  dying,  left  a  fortune  of 
$35,000,  many  examples  of  worthy  craftsmanship, 
an  established  business,  and  an  honored  name. 

Revere's  house  in  North  square  is  today,  with 
one  possible  exception,  the  oldest  standing  edifice  in 
Boston;  it  was  built  in  1676,  and  was  nearly  a  century 
old  when  Revere  became  its  .occupant.  About  North 
square  dwelt  many  of  the  "best  families;"  in  its 
vicinity   were   several   churches,   including  the  Old 

61 


Ta^ 


■^^:^di^^^^^^ 


■f^ 

.-:?-' 

l^'lfi     t 


•,  >J::=ftS5jff^ri 


'  f.S-f>A 


j<-   ._._.•-_. 


North.    Tod. 
ter      ■ 

upcn  j;  ■•  pi!  ■ 
Faneuil  ] 
head  <»f  the  ^« 
nectiiig  the    ; 
later  turmM 
shipping, 
mark' 
to  the  cuiuni 

i:Aii:-tuy/Xi.    x.l. 
burser'  '  '-^    •■■  mi,  h>u 
of  tht^  -       .  ..iental  ir^    , 
Louis  Phihppe,  future  k 
French  lesvsons  at  the  hd 
And  so  every  comei 
and    its    associatioii 
suggest,  where  liere  or  thei 
imagination  or  starts  tb 
tracking  aloj 
streets  tb* 
Cb— -^   ■ 

Groin 


Mail. 
,^8i  .YDrajp  HAI80I,  YK  TJi'ja  jaxsAM  jjaH  jiuaMAl 
.xooQ.  MwoT  qjO  aHT  aaxADOJ  p.aw  yjaaMaoa  aaanw 
.ts^saM  Yomup  aajJAD  YJTMaupa5['5 


Faneuil  Hall  Marxet,  built  by  Josl^h  Qthncy,  1825, 

WHERE  FORMERLY  WAS  LOCATED    THE  OlD  TOWN  DOCK. 

Frequently  called  Qltlncy  Market. 


The  Old  City 

North.  Today  it  forms  a  part  of  the  ItaHan  quar- 
ter; is  there  a  future  president,  think  you,  playing 
upon  its  pavement? 

Faneuil  Hall  was  built  by  Peter  Faneuil,  at  the 
head  of  the  Town  Dock,  in  1742.  Mill  Creek,  con- 
necting the  Town  Dock  with  the  Mill  Pond,  was 
later  turned  into  a  canal  for  the  passage  of  small 
shipping.  In  1825  Josiah  Quincy  built  a  new 
market,  filling  in  the  old  dock,  and  adding  vastly 
to  the  commercial  facilities  of  the  city. 

Near  the  Boston  Stone,  in  Marshall's  Lane, 
Ebenezer  Hancock,  Revolutionary  paymaster,  dis- 
bursed the  gold,  loaned  by  France,  for  the  payment 
of  the  Continental  troops;  and  in  this  neighborhood 
Louis  PhiHppe,  future  king  of  France,  in  1798  gave 
French  lessons  at  the  house  of  James  Ambard. 

And  so  every  corner  in  old  Boston  has  its  history 
and  its  associations.  A  single  chapter  can  but 
suggest,  where  here  or  there  an  incident  teases  one's 
imagination  or  starts  the  train  of  reminiscence  back- 
tracking along  a  path  as  devious  as  the  tangled 
streets  themselves.  What  of  Tremont  street.  King's 
Chapel,  and  that  neighborhood  of  fine  estates  on  the 
Pemberton  slope  ?  What  of  the  Granary  Burying 
Ground,  where  nine  governors  sleep,  undisturbed 
by  the  futile  clatter  of  street  noises  above,  or  the 
roar  of  the  subway  beneath.^  What  of  the  great 
Mall,  the  Haymarket,  or  the  sober  luxuries  of 
Colonnade   Row.^^     What   of   the   old   slough   near 

63 


Random   Notes  of   Boston 

Boy  Is  ton  street,  where  the  selectmen,  deep  mired  one 
day,  heard  the  satirical  voice  of  witty  Mather  Byles, 
calling  from  his  open  door, 

"Well,  gentlemen,  I'm  glad  to  see  you  stirring  in 
that  matter  at  last." 

What,  indeed?  Let  us  hasten  on,  or  ourselves  be 
mired  in  a  welter  of  historic  incident. 


■'■■V"  .3Jr2 


■f-v 


WATERFR<r 


3M0H  3HT  WOTd  [ll^l  (32U0H  STAtS  QJO  3HT  10  0^3  T8A3 

OT  1 88 1  MI  aasiMAoao  .YxaiooS  MAiMOxsoa  sht   10 

(MA  Moxaoa  10  YJiOTaiH  aHT  10  yctjtS  anx  axoMoaq 

.aaixiupix^A  axi  ao  MoiXAvaaaaa^  anx 


jjiM    anx    10    MOixAOoJ    xm3iomA  ;xaaax8    YAwaauAO 
.MOixAxS  HxaoPl  anx  ,a>ioYaa    .omo? 


K  AxroM   Notes  of   Boston 

Boylston  street,  where  the  selectmen,  deep  mired  one 
lieard  the  satirical  voice  of  witty  Mather  Byles, 
calhiig  from  his  open  door 

''Well,  gentlemen,  Fni  gi;ui  to  see  you  stiniug  in 
that  matter  at  last." 

What,  indeed?    Lei .,    /  nx\r^(Avo^  1.. 

mirfd  in  n  welter  of  historic  incident. 


East  End  of  the  Old  State  House,  17 13;  now  the  Home 
of   the  bostonian  society,  organized  in  1881  to 

PROMOTE    THE  StUDY  OF  THE  HiSTORY  OF    BoSTON  AND 

THE  Preservation  of  its  Antiquities. 


Causeway    Street;  Ancient   Location    of    the    Mill 
Pond.    Beyond,  the  North  Station. 


WATERFRONT  AND  HARBOR 


-   ^-^ 


■j">  f'<  ««'' 


.^i^. 


'  :>^ 


j/iix^'*p^. 


■^r>i 


■/ 


TN  his  Wonder-i 

Edward   Jolt  li- 
the first  decade  <>; 
fortified  emiuenc 
and  Fort  Hills,  witi 
the  beacon  on  the  tlurd  iiii 
means  Beacon  Hill,   wil^ 
pinnacled  summit;    the  -■•:-- 
wharves,   which  the  ear-^     ^ 
enough  to  build  in  the  i 
and  finally,  "the  buildin, 
fairly  set  forth  with  brir 
orderly  placed 
enlargement  presagei 

We  could  forgive  L1j< 
brick,  tile,  stone  an-! 

•?Rr^'|^a.  ya^pipiT  jjoYaJl  A  ;WT2oa  HTuoa  .omajzI 
aixaA  '  .ao;fi8  anx  omsiua  naixma  anx  ya  aaiTJooO 
i^MiS¥jiA' ^ -^X'   Ya    aaMoaia^Ao    .MOixAuoAva    anx 

.aaayail  jua*I  aaoKu  aoao'I 


Fort  Independence,  formerly  the  Castle,  on  Castle 
Island,  South  Boston;  a  Revolutionary  Defence. 

OCCUPLED  BY  THE  BRITISH  DURING  THE  SlEGE.      AfTER 

THE  Evacuation,  garrisoned  by  an  Artillery 
Force  under  Paul  Revere. 


V. 


WATERFRONT  AND  HARBOR 

TN  his  Wonder-working  Providence  in  New  England^ 
Edward  Johnson  gives  some  idea  of  Boston  in 
the  first  decade  of  its  history.  He  mentions  the  two 
fortified  eminences  at  the  north  and  south,  Copp's 
and  Fort  Hills,  with  the  "Great  Cove"  between; 
the  beacon  on  the  third  hill,  by  which  he  doubtless 
means  Beacon  Hill,  without  reference  to  its  three- 
pinnacled  summit;  the  substantial  character  of  the 
wharves,  which  the  early  Bostonians  were  shrewd 
enough  to  build  in  the  interests  of  ocean  commerce; 
and  finally,  "the  buildings,  large  and  beautiful,  some 
fairly  set  forth  with  brick,  tile,  stone  and  slate,  and 
orderly  placed  with  seemly  streets,  whose  continual 
enlargement  presageth  some  sumptuous  city.'' 

We  could  forgive  the  slang,  but  how  about  the 
brick,  tile,  stone  and  slate?  Other  chroniclers  fail 
to  mention  them,  and  even  as  late  as  1803  the  infre- 
quency  of  brick  buildings  was  noted  by  contem- 
porary writers. 

67 


Random   Notes  of  Boston 

The  southern  fortification  mentioned  by  Johnson 
was  the  so-called  Southern  Battery,  on  the  seaward 
side  of  Fort  Hill.  This  location  corresponded  to  that 
of  the  present  Rowe's  wharf,  where  you  take  the 
boat  to  the  beach.  Fort  Hill  square  is  now  as  flat 
as  your  hand,  but  in  the  old  days  Fort  Hill  was  a 
fair  round  knoll,  crowned  with  a  pleasant  park  and 
fine  trees.  In  the  eighteenth  century  the  streets 
running  up  its  sides  were  bordered  with  the  homes 
of  well-to-do  citizens.  In  that  section  of  town 
dwelt,  also,  many  artisans  employed  in  ropewalks 
and  shipyards.  That  they  were  a  husky  crew  is 
shown  by  the  fact  that  only  two  days  before  the 
Boston  Massacre  occurred  a  riotous  encounter 
between  the  "mechanics"  and  the  British  soldiers 
quartered  thereabout,  in  which  the  townsmen  scored 
a  boisterous,  if  not  very  sanguinary  victory. 

At  Grifiin's  wharf,  nearby,  the  three  teaships 
lay  on  December  16,  1773.  Here  came  about  a  score 
of  spurious  Indians,  followed  by  a  willing  crowd  of 
excited  men  and  boys,  after  an  indignation  meeting 
in  the  Old  South  Meeting  House.  In  short  order 
they  boarded  the  vessels,  siezed  the  three  hundred 
and  forty-two  chests  of  tea,  and  emptied  them  upon 
the  mud  and  ooze  of  the  harbor-bottom,  exposed  by 
the  ebb  tide.  Some  of  the  invading  party  clambered 
down  the  piling  and  tramped  the  tea  into  the  mud, 
as  it  poured  over  from  the  decks.  The  returning  tide 
completed  the  work. 

68 


The  Lobster-Boat  Fleet,  Atlantic  Avenue. 


Random   Notes  of   Boston 

The  soutiicni  luruiKuunn  iiMMitioiied  by  Johnson 
was  the  so-called  Southern  Battery,  on  the  seaward 
side  of  Fort  Hill.  This  location  corresponded  to  that 
of  the  present  Howe's  wharf,  where  you  take  the 
boat  to  the  beach.  Fort  Hill  square  is  now  as  flat 
as  your  hand,  but  in  the  old  days  Fort  Hill  was  a 
fair  round  knoll,  crowned  with  a  pleasant  park  and 
fine  trees.  In  the  eighteenth  century  the  streets 
running  up  its  sides  were  bordered  with  the  homes 
of  well-to-do  citizens.  In  that  section  of  town 
dwelt,  also,  many  artisans  employed  in  ropewalks 
and  shipyards.  That  they  were  a  husky  crew  is 
shown  by  the  fact  that  only  two  days  before  the 
Boston  Massacre  occurred  a  riotous  encounter 
between  the  "mechanics"  and  the  British  soldiers 
quartered  thereabout,  in  which  the  townsmen  scored 
a  boisterous,  if  not  very  sanguinary  victory. 

At  Griffin's  wharf,  nearby,  the  three  teaships 
lay  on  December  16,  1773.  Here  eanie  about  a  score 
of  spurious  Indians,  followed  by  a  willing  crowd  of 
excited  men  and  boys,  after  an  indignation  meeting 
in  the  Old  South  Meeting  House.  In  short  order 
they  boarded  the  vessels,  siezed  the  three  hundred 
and  forty-two  chests  of  tea,  and  emptied  them  upon 
the  mud  and  ooze  of  the  harbor-bottom,  exposed  by 
the  ebb  tide.  Some  of  the  invading  party  clambered 
down  the  piling  and  tramped  the  tea  into  the  mud, 
as  it  poured  over  from  the  decks.  The  returning  tide 
completed  the  work. 

.auMavA  oitpiajtA  ,t:^i'5  TAoE-iiaTaaoJ  anT 


'#-; 


V 


— ^*^^ 


iir;u 


ifcl'Si. 


"    A^jy 


Random   Notes  of  Boston 

One  of  the  party,  Thomas  Melvill,  found  tea  in 
his  shoes  when  he  went  home.  This,  sealed  in  a 
bottle,  was  kept  as  a  memento  of  the  affair,  and  is 
in  the  collection  of  the  Bostonian  Society  today. 
No  one  was  permitted  knowingly  to  carry  tea  away, 
and  if  any  tried  to  do  so,  he  was  promptly  set  upon. 
One  such  lost  his  coat-tails,  in  the  pockets  of  which 
he  had  hidden  a  few  handfuls  of  the  herb.  Next 
day  the  coat-tails  were  nailed  upon  the  whipping 
post  near  their  owner's  house  in  Charlestown,  with 
an  appropriate  placard. 

Paul  Revere,  as  you  might  readily  suppose,  was 
"among  those  present"  at  the  Tea  Party,  and  shortly 
afterwards  set  out  on  horseback  for  New  York,  with 
news  of  the  occurrence,  where  it  occasioned  great 
enthusiasm.  This  was  only  one  of  his  numerous 
official  journeys  in  that  direction.  Seemingly,  if  a 
message  needed  carrying,  someone  always  cried, 
"Where's  Paul.?" 

Another  name  for  the  Southern  Battery  was  the 
"Sconce,"  and  from  it  Sconce  lane  led  up  to  the 
fort  on  the  hillside.  This  fort  was  begun  in  1632,  but 
the  Sconce  was  the  more  strongly  built  and  equipped. 
In  fact,  in  1743,  when  the  Sconce  mounted  thirty- 
five  guns,  the  fort  seems  to  have  disappeared.  The 
British  occupied  this  fortification  with  a  garrison  of 
four  hundred  men,  and  at  the  Evacuation  left  it  in 
badly  damaged  condition,  but  the  American  forces 
repaired  it. 

70 


The  Fishing  Fleet,  and  the  Wholesale  Produce 
District,  looking  past  Atlantic  Avenue  from  the 
Water  Front. 


Random   Notes  of  Boston 

One  of  Uie  party,  Thomas  MelviJl,  found  tea  in 
his  shoes  when  he  went  home.  This,  scaled  in  a 
bottle,  was  kept  m^  a  memento  of  the  affair,  and  is 
in  the  collection  of  the  Bostonian  Society  today. 
No  one  was  permitted  knowingly  to  carry  tea  away, 
and  if  any  tried  to  do  so,  he  was  promptly  set  upon. 
One  such  lost  his  coat-tails,  in  the  pockets  of  which 
he  had  hidden  a  few  handfuls  of  the  herb.  Next 
day  the  coat-tails  were  nailed  upon  the  whipping 
post  near  their  owner's  house  in  Charlestown,  with 
an  appropriate  placard. 

Paul  Revere,  as  you  might  readily  suppose,  was 
''among  those  present"  at  the  Tea  Party,  and  shortly 
afterwards  set  out  on  horseback  for  New  York,  with 
news  of  the  occurrence,  where  it  <)ocasioned  great 
enthusiasm.     This  was  only  .  umerous 

official  journeys  in  that  direction.  Seemingly,  if  a 
message    needed   carrying,    someone  ried, 

"Where's  Paul .^" 

Another  name  for  the  Sou  ^ battery  was  the 

"Sconce,"  and  from  it  Sconce  latie  led  up  to  the 
fort  on  the  hillside.  This  fort  was  begun  in  1632,  but 
the  Sconce  was  the  more  strongly  built  and  equipped. 
In  fact,  in  1743,  when  the  Sconce  mounted  thirty- 
five  guns,  the  fort  seems  to  have  disappeared.  The 
British  occupied  this  fortification  with  a  garrison  of 
four  hundred  men,  and  at  the  Evacuation  left  it  in 

fi^^sl-iW^iavA  oitmajtA  xaAq  ovioooj  .xomTaiQ 

70 


ii 


f 


V*'T 


.j^'^^'-W 


Random   Notes  of   Boston 

The  harbor  Hne  extended  irregularly  from  Fort 
Hill  toward  the  present  junction  of  Kilby  and  State 
streets,  and  it  would  be  well  to  remember  the  hollow 
conformation  of  the  shore  in  the  early  days.  Sconce 
lane  was  afterwards  called  Hamilton  street,  and  the 
way  along  the  beach  the  "Battery march,"  a  name 
that  has  come  down  to  us,  and  which  enables  us  to 
determine  the  former  beach  line  with  a  degree  of 
accuracy. 

The  indentation  of  the  harbor  known  as  Great 
Cove  or  Town  Cove  was  divided  about  equally  by 
Long  wharf,  a  solid  structure  continuing  the  line  of 
King  (State)  street.  From  its  landward  end  near 
the  present  corner  of  Kilby  street,  it  ran  out  two 
thousand  feet.  It  was  built  in  1709-10,  and  sup- 
ported rows  of  stores  and  warehouses.  With  the 
reclamation  of  the  Cove,  Long  wharf  sacrificed 
most  of  its  length  to  State  street. 

The  present  shore  line  from  Battery  street  to 
Rowe's  wharf,  as  defined  by  Atlantic  avenue,  cor- 
responds to  the  old  Barricado,  a  stout  defence  of  logs 
or  piles  which  effectually  enclosed  the  inner  harbor. 
At  the  point  where  the  Barricado  cut  Long  wharf  at 
right  angles,  and  on  the  northern  side  of  the  latter, 
was  Minott's  T,  a  projection  or  offshoot  of  Long 
wharf,  and  joined  to  the  Barricado  as  well.  Its 
shape  gave  it  the  name,  which  has  no  reference  to  the 
Tea  Party.  By  extension  and  alteration,  T  wharf 
became  an  independent  jetty,  having  no  connection 

72 


Dewey  Square,  from  the  South  Station. 


Random   Notes  of  Boston 

The  harbor  line  <'>itejided  irregularly  from  Fort 
Hill  toward  the  present  junction  of  Kilby  and  State 
streets,  and  it  would  be  well  to  remember  the  hollow 
conformation  of  the  shore  in  the  early  days.  Sconce 
lane  was  afterwards  called  Hamilton  street,  and  the 
way  along  the  beach  the  "Battery march,"  a  name 
that  has  come  down  to  us,  and  which  enables  us  to 
determine  the  former  beach  line  with  a  degree  of 
accuracy. 

The  indentation  of  the  harbor  known  as  Great 
Cove  or  Town  Cove  was  divided  about  equally  by 
Long  wharf,  a  solid  structure  continuing  the  line  of 
King  (State)  street.  From  its  landward  end  near 
the  present  corner  of  Kilby  street,  it  ran  out  two 
thousand  feet.  It  was  built  in  1709-10,  and  sup- 
ported rows  of  store-  v  Brehoii'^e«^.  With  the 
reclamation  of  the  ^  :^acrificed 
most  of  its  length  to  State  str^ » ^  . 

The  present  short  street  to 

Rowe's  wharf,  as  defines i  avenue,  cor- 

responds to  the  old  Barricado,  a  ;sloiil  defence  of  logs 
or  piles  which  effectually  ench>sed  the  inner  harbor. 
At  the  point  where  the  Barricado  cut  Long  wharf  at 
right  angles,  and  on  the  northern  side  of  the  latter, 
was  Minott's  T,  a  projection  or  offshoot  of  Long 
wharf,  and  joined  to  the  Barricado  as  well.  Its 
shape  gave  it  the  name,  which  has  no  reference  to  the 
Tea  Party.  By  extension  and  alteration,  T  wharf 
became  an  independent  jetty,  having  no  connection 

.moitatS  HTU08  aHT  1!?q;ii  ,asL^up8  YawaQ 


"t>" 


Jltf^^ 


Random   Notes  of   Boston 

with  Long  wharf. 

When  you  detrain  today  at  the  South  station, 
you  issue  upon  a  big,  crowded  plaza,  named  recently, 
as  its  title  indicates,  Dewey  square.  Turn  and  look 
back  and  up  at  the  towering  facade,  surmounted  by 
an  enormous  clock,  usually  set  two  comfortable 
minutes  faster  than  standard  time,  a  white  and 
justifiable  falsehood. 

Twenty  years  ago  there  was  no  South  terminal, 
but  incoming  travelers  were  set  down  at  one  or 
another  of  several  scattered  structures.  Today  all 
trains  entering  the  city  on  the  south  side  utilize 
the  South  station.  Until  within  two  or  three  years 
it  was  the  largest  railroad  station  on  earth.  Yet  it  is 
even  now  scarcely  adequate  for  the  traffic  passing 
through  it. 

Our  drawing  of  Dewey  square  was  made  from  the 
main  entrance  of  the  terminal,  and  shows  a  teeming, 
sometimes  congested,  center  of  traffic.  The  elevated, 
of  more  recent  erection  than  the  station  itself, 
sweeps  past  in  a  long  curve,  and  apprehensive  thou- 
sands "duck"  timidly  when  the  trains  grind  roaring 
and  shrieking  overhead.  Several  busy  streets  radiate 
from  Dewey  square.  At  morning  and  evening  it 
is  traversed  by  hurrying  crowds,  and  a  few  souls 
forget  the  two  minutes'  grace  of  the  big  clock  and 
run  for  trains  with  un-Bostonian  abandon. 

The  location  of  the  South  station  was  formerly 
marsh  and  Atlantic  avenue  as  far  as  Rowe's  wharf 

74 


Waterfront  and   Harbor 

was  built  upon  low  or  marshy  ground.  It  is  parall- 
eled by  the  Fort  Point  channel,  which  connects  the 
harbor  with  the  South  bay,  an  inner  basin  now 
lined  with  wharves,  coal-pockets  and  lumber  docks. 

Along  the  "old  Barricado,"  now  Atlantic  avenue, 
from  Rowe's  wharf  to  Battery  wharf,  a  great  number 
of  docks  and  quays  jut  out,  with  an  irregular  sug- 
gestion of  comb  teeth.  Long  and  T  wharves  are  of 
the  number  given  over  to  the  fishing  industry. 
Massachusetts  surely  feeds  the  nation  on  Fridays, 
for  the  fisher-folk  of  Boston,  Gloucester,  Province- 
town  and  lesser  ports  winnow  the  deep  the  year 
around.  Sometimes,  after  a  storm  at  sea,  the  vessels, 
big  and  little,  that  dock  along  Atlantic  avenue  come 
in  with  every  spar  and  strand  thickly  coated  with  ice. 
But  nothing  daunts  the  "Captains  Courageous"  of 
the  New  England  fishing  fleets. 

From  the  elevated  train  you  will  see  the  fruit 
company's  "banana  boats,"  in  from  Jamaica,  dis- 
charging cargoes  for  trans-shipment  to  points  inland. 
The  bananas  come  to  port  green,  but  before  you  buy 
them  for  your  own  use  they  will  have  been  ripened  in 
dark,  warm  cellars.  Finishing  on  the  tree  improves 
an  orange,  but  bananas  are  better  if  captured  in  a 
green,  undomeSticated  state.  Occasionally  the 
banana  boat  brings  a  stowaway,  a  big,  fighting 
tarantula,  with  a  hairy  body  as  large  as  a  half-dollar, 
and  a  dangerous  bite. 

It  is  said  that  the  battle  of  Fort  Hill,  between  the 

75 


7^  §■• 


l!' 


..■■■j....i,ii.','!>,  -.  kin,'  i'  v.&»-•p<»:■ 


:;^.:4 


"  ,,''K' 


iii>'''^.r::;;i»1>^-£;^'; 


/i«v«»K 


Waterfront 

"1''"    V...,,    ,...  tiipitatc" 

aPT)]i'  r-H  coat,  by  r- 

bster  h 
ntributing  largely 
name  finds  no  greater  fav 
iian  when  used  for  the  patriotic  purp^ 
M.artiii^  Revolutionary  rumpus.     The  lobsUr 

Heet,  coii.^i^iUig  of  many  small  craf ' 
tiriven,   should  interest  the  gourmti    vuu   hk 
know  the  origi?'    -^^  '■<  delicac'' -     ^  •  the  gourr 
'-ve  recomnien<!  atisfyii!;^     ,      ities   of  B; 

hnked  bear  the  New  England  boiled  dinner, 

lie  huge  masses  of 
iiarlestown  and  East  Boston. 
Most  of  the  tonnage  lying  at  the  wharves  of  Atlantic 
avenue  is  coast-wise.  But,  barring  one  German  line, 
the  passenger  boats  and  freighters  of  the  foreign- 
faring  trade  tie  up  at  the  farther  shore.  East  Boston 
is  on  Noddle  Island,  a  part  of  the  city  proper,  where 
great  manufactures  thrive.  From  it  we  ^(^^  '"'^-^i  "'< 
lamps,  ships,  machinery  and  immigrants. 

Back  of  the  Charlestown  docks  rises  Bunker  Hill. 
riie  immediate  vicinity  of  Bunker  Hill  is  richer  in 
historic  associatioi:  in  pictorial  value,  which 

explains  why  it  is  artistically  wise  to  show  the  thin 
-haft  of  the  Monument  aspiring  slenderlv 
ifternoon  sun,  its  tall  shape  emphasized  by  cou 
vith  the  gray  of  the  docks  and  ships. 

Just  beyond  .Battery  street,  at  Copp's  Hfl? 
TMaMuinoM  jJiH  aaxMua  [WfroTz^jsiAHO  ta  aMooQ  anT 

77 


The  Docks  at  Charlestown;  Bunker  Hill  Monument 


Waterfront  and   Harbor 

soldiers  and  the  townsmen,  was  precipitated  by  the 
term  "lobster,"  applied  to  a  red-coat,  by  one  of  the 
mechanics.  Since  that  day  the  lobster  has  become  a 
creature  of  fashion,  contributing  largely  to  the  high 
cost  of  livers,  but  his  name  finds  no  greater  favor  as 
an  epithet  than  when  used  for  the  patriotic  purpose  of 
starting  a  pre-Revolutionary  rumpus.  The  lobster 
fleet,  consisting  of  many  small  craft,  mostly  power 
driven,  should  interest  the  gourmet  who  likes  to 
know  the  origin  of  his  delicacies;  to  the  gourmand, 
we  recommend  the  satisfying  qualities  of  Boston 
baked  beans  and  the  New  England  boiled  dinner. 

Across  the  harbor,  bulk  the  huge  masses  of  ele- 
vator and  dock  in  Charlestown  and  East  Boston. 
Most  of  the  tonnage  lying  at  the  wharves  of  Atlantic 
avenue  is  coast-wise.  But,  barring  one  German  line, 
the  passenger  boats  and  freighters  of  the  foreign- 
faring  trade  tie  up  at  the  farther  shore.  East  Boston 
is  on  Noddle  Island,  a  part  of  the  city  proper,  where 
great  manufactures  thrive.  From  it  we  get  electric 
lamps,  ships,  machinery  and  immigrants. 

Back  of  the  Charlestown  docks  rises  Bunker  Hill. 
The  immediate  vicinity  of  Bunker  Hill  is  richer  in 
historic  association  than  in  pictorial  value,  which 
explains  why  it  is  artistically  wise  to  show  the  thin 
shaft  of  the  Monument  aspiring  slenderly  in  the 
afternoon  sun,  its  tall  shape  emphasized  by  contrast 
with  the  gray  of  the  docks  and  ships. 

Just  beyond  Battery  street,  at  Copp's  Hill,  the 

77 


Random   Notes  of   Boston 

settlers  established  the  North  Battery,  which  Edward 
Johnson  described  as  "a  very  strong  battery  built 
of  whole  timber  and  filled  with  earth."  It  is  first 
mentioned  in  the  records  of  1644.  Battery  wharf 
perpetuates  its  name.  Major  Pitcairn,  of  the  First 
Battalion  of  Marines,  was  one  of  the  British  officers 
who  embarked  from  the  North  Battery  on  the  day 
of  Bunker  Hill,  a  day  upon  which  he  displayed  a  fatal 
gallantry.  He,  you  will  remember,  was  reported  to 
have  stirred  his  grog  with  his  finger  at  Wright's 
Tavern,  Concord,  on  April  19,  stating  as  he  did  so, 
that  the  damned  Yankees'  blood  would  be  similarly 
"stirred"  before  night.  Viewing  the  bravery  of  his 
death,  we  may  charitably  overlook  that  boast. 

Soon  after  the  settlement  of  Boston,  the  colonists 
began  to  build  ships.  Oddly  enough,  the  first  of  these 
was  launched  on  July  4,  in  the  year  1631,  at  Medford, 
a  short  distance  up  the  Mystic  river.  The  shipyards 
of  Boston  were  established  along  the  North  End 
waterfront,  and  the  shipwrights  formed  a  group, 
powerful  in  politics,  whose  opinion  was  always 
seriously  considered.  Our  term  "caucus,"  applied 
to  a  political  meeting,  is  said  to  have  sprung  from, 
the  gatherings  of  "calkers"  in  the  famous  old  public 
houses  of  the  North  End. 

Of  the  hundreds  of  vessels  built  in  the  palmy 
days  of  marine  construction  in  Boston,  the  most 
notable  was  the  frigate  Constitution,  "Old  Iron- 
sides," the  pride  of  the  American  navy.     Her  keel 

78 


Battery  Street  Station;   near  the  Site  of  the  North 
Battery,  and  of  Hartt's  Shipyard. 


Random   Notes  of  Boston 

Jolmson  described  as  "a  very  strong  battery  built 
of  whole  timber  and  filled  with  earth."  It  is  first 
mentioned  in  the  records  U.     Battery  wharf 

perpetuates  its  name.  Major  Pitcairn,  of  the  First 
Battalion  of  Marines,  was  one  of  the  British  officers 
embarked  from  the  North  Battery  on  the  day 
of  Bunker  Hill,  a  day  upon  which  he  displayed  a  fatal 
gallantry.  He,  you  will  remember,  was  reported  to 
have  stirred  his  grog  with  his  finger  at  Wright's 
Tavern,  Concord,  on  April  19,  stating  as  he  did  so, 
that  the  damned  Yankees'  blood  w^ould  be  similarly 
"stirred"  before  night.  Viewing  the  bravery  of  his 
death,  we  may  charitably  overlook  that  boast. 

Soon  after  the  settlement  of  Boston,  the  colonists 
began  to  build  ships.  Oddly  enough,  the  first  of  these 
was  launched  on  July  4,  in  the  year  1681,  at  Medford, 
a  short  distance  up  the  My sti'  -le  shipyards 

of  Boston   were  established  alo  North  End 

waterfront ,  and  the  shipwrights  lurmed  a  group, 
powerful  in  ^politics,  whose  opinion  was  always 
seriously  considered.  Our  term  *' caucus,"  applied 
to  a  political  meeting,  is  said  to  have  sprung  from 
the  gatherings  of  "calkers"  in  the  famous  old  public 
houses  of  the  North  End. 

Of  the  hundreds  of  vessels  built  in  the  palmy 
days  of  marine  construction  in  Boston,  the  most 
notable  was  the  frigate  Constitution,    *'01d    Iron- 


J?\ 


i:  •'■;* 


C  I 


Random   Notes  of   Boston 

was  laid  in  Hartt's  shipyard,  the  site  of  the  present 
Constitution  wharf.  No  modern  dreadnaught  ever 
aroused  a  fraction  of  the  enthusiasm  occasioned  by 
her  planning  and  building.  On  the  day  set  for  her 
launching,  September  20,  1797,  thousands  of 
people  crowded  the  neighboring  shores  and  wharves ; 
but  when  the  signal  was  given,  she  failed  to  take 
the  water.  A  second  attempt,  on  the  22nd,  proved 
unsuccessful;  but  on  Saturday,  October  21,  she  slid 
down  the  ways,  observed  by  only  a  few  people,  since 
many  had  declared  her  "ill-fated,"  and  perhaps 
thought  she  would  never  be  floated.  Her  subsequent 
career  in  the  service,  and  long  life,  not  yet  at  an  end, 
have  shown  the  emptiness  of  that  superstitious  fear. 

If  the  Constitution  typified  one  aspect  of  the 
Boston  spirit,  let  us  consider  a  modern  example  of  a 
different  sort.  On  any  summer  day  you  may  see, 
either  at  anchor  in  the  roadstead,  or  nosing  unob- 
trusively among  the  shipping,  an  odd-looking,  many- 
windowed  craft  of  the  house-boat  order,  cargoed 
with  sick  babies  and  tired  mothers.  Her  daily  trips, 
made  possible  by  the  generosity  of  hundreds  of  men, 
women  and  children,  sometimes  expressed  in  pennies, 
often  in  an  individual  contribution  suflBcient  for  the 
expense  of  an  entire  day,  register  the  throbbing  of 
a  great  heart  full  of  tenderness  and  pity  for  the 
helpless.    This  is  the  Boston  Floating  Hospital. 

"Peace  hath  her  victories,  no  less  renowned  than 
war." 


CAMBRIlx 


The  Washington  Elm,  Garden  Street,  Cambridge. 


Random   Notes  of   Boston 

was  laid  iii  Hartt's  shipyard,  the  site  of  the  present 
Constitution  wharf.  No  modern  dreaduaught  ever 
aroused  a  fraction  of  the  enthu'siasm  occasioned  by 
her  planning  and  building.  On  the  day  set  for  her 
launching,  September  20,  1797,  thousands  of 
people  crowded  the  neighboring  shores  and  wharves; 
but  when  the  signal  was  given,  she  failed  to  take 
the  wall  second  attempt,  on  the  22nd,  proved 

unsuccessful;  but  on  Saturday,  October  21,  she  slid 
down  the  ways,  observed  by  only  a  few  people,  since 
many  had  declared  her  "ill-fated,"  and  perhaps 
thought  she  would  never  be  floated.  Her  subsequent 
career  in  the  service,  and  long  life,  not  yet  at  an  end, 
have  shown  the  emptiness  of  that  superstitious  fear. 

If  the  Constitution  typified  one  aspect  of  the 
Boston  spirit,  let  us  consider  a  modern  example  of  a 
different  sort.  On  any  summer  day  you  may  see, 
either  at  anchor  in  the  roadstead,  or  nosing  unob- 
trusively among  the  shipping,  an  odd-looking,  many- 
windowed  craft  of  the  house-boat  order,  cargoed 
with  sick  babies  and  tired  mothers.  Her  daily  trips, 
made  possible  by  the  generosity  of  hundreds  of  men, 
women  and  children,  sometimes  expressed  in  pennies, 
often  in  an  individual  contribution  sufficient  for  the 
expense  of  an  entire  day,  register  the  throbbing  of 
a  great  heart  full  of  tenderness  and  pity  for  the 
helpless.    This  is  the  Boston  Floating  Hospital. 

"Peace  hath  her  victories,  no  less  renowned  than 

war." 
.3oaiaaMA3  ^xaa^TS  Maa^AO  ,Mja  motov[ih2aW  3hT 


CAMBRIDGE  AND  HARVARD  COLLEGE 


M' 


■■■••:■■,  <-^*«WP*-  9f!W«*»**w«9««w^ji*«-ifc'(to4^ — 


\'L 


CAMBKTDGE  AV^^  tIAT;; 

:Y  rcu.......  ...  _..,.,.... 

close   kinship    unite 
Blood  is  thicker  than 
constitute  a  physical  ban 

bridge  shares,  and,  if  possibi< 

sp;r: 

individuaii 

Some  unceriiiii'l 
minds  of  the  PuritaiJ  tn  ^  /:,  in  ui' 

permanency  of  their  Shav.  ■.■.,■-.    ,■■,., —      i  he  slopes 
of  Trimount  offered  n   ••■'•'■'     !ii-^"'.M!    ■ic -.^    fcjr  mo'i-I 
cultural  purposes;    th 
Upon  a  seven-hundre( 
f  !ompletel;S'^    engirdled 
grov,Uiwas  serious.     "Dn  Li^    )  -    -•'^,U'!"^A•i^'llii^-^"•    -j 

^^Mt^AMi  ^OT^OS'   3HT.  «0    8W[lT9lV   aUT  ; 4.£,t J' '  <3Qaj:  , 

,jrjaMAi;    aaxaH    ^aoMaovraqaciMl    ao  "^oixAaAJoaa 

it^'tairi[ '"^^d  ^M^aW^.^^  iiaiiTO  a>iA  .aaavail  J'ja^ 

.3D>iaMTM0a4 


Entrance  to  Old  Granary  Burying  Ground,  Tremont 
Street;  here  lies  John  Hancock,  Harvard  Col- 
lege 1754;  THE  Victims  of  the  Boston  Massacre 
are  bltiied  here;  also  several  signers  of  the 
Declaration  of  Independence,  Peter  Faneuil, 
Paul  Revere,  and  other  Personages  of  Historic 
Prominence. 


VI. 


CAMBRIDGE  AND  HARVARD  COLLEGE 

II^Y  reason  of  common  ancestry  and  interest,  a 
close  kinship  unites  Cambridge  and  Boston. 
Blood  is  thicker  than  water,  even  though  the  water 
constitute  a  physical  barrier  between  them.  Cam- 
bridge shares,  and,  if  possible,  intensifies  the  Boston 
spirit;  yet  it  has  its  own  unique  and  well  defined 
individuality. 

Some  uncertainty  seems  to  have  persisted  in  the 
minds  of  the  Puritan  founders  of  Boston  as  to  the 
permanency  of  their  Shawmut  location.  The  slopes 
of  Trimount  offered  a  very  limited  area  for  agri- 
cultural purposes;  the  settlers  needed  elbow  room. 
Upon  a  seven-hundred-acre,  tongue  of  land  almost 
completely  engirdled  by  water,  the  problem  of 
growth  was  serious.  On  the  promontory,  geograph- 
ical contour  simplified  the  matter  of  defence;  so,  in 
selecting  a  site  for  a  town  further  inland,  protection 
must  be  considered,  along  with  the  gained  advan- 
tages of  soil  and  space. 

83 


Random   Notes  of   Boston 

In  December,  1630,  the  settlers  decided  to  begin 
a  new  town  at  a  spot  nearly  coincident  with  the 
present  Harvard  square,  and  "Newtowne"  it  was 
called  for  eight  years.  Here  is  a  contemporary 
account  of  Newtowne,  by  William  Wood,  author  of 
New  England's  Prospect,  1633: 

"This  place  was  first  intended  for  a  city,  but, 
upon  more  serious  considerations,  it  was  thought  not 
so  fit,  being  too  far  from  the  sea,  being  the  greatest 
inconvenience  it  hath.  This  is  one  of  the  neatest 
and  best  compacted  towns  in  New  England,  having 
many  fair  structures,  with  many  handsome  con- 
trived streets.  The  inhabitants,  most  of  them,  are 
very  rich,  and  well  stored  with  cattle  of  all  sorts, 
having  many  hundred  acres  of  land  paled  in  with 
general  fence,  which  is  about  a  mile  and  a  half  long, 
which  secures  all  their  weaker  cattle  from  the  wild 
beasts." 

Many  of  the  Bostonians  agreed  to  establish 
homes  in  the  new  fortified  town,  including  Governor 
Winthrop,  Thomas  Dudley,  the  deputy  governor, 
and  the  "assistants,"  who  constituted  the  council,  or 
legislative  aids  to  the  governor.  Not  all  kept  this 
promise.  Dudley  built  his  house  near  what  is  now 
Dunster  street,  two  blocks  from  the  Square.  Win- 
throp, however,  changed  his  mind,  and  though  he 
actually  built  a  house  in  Cambridge,  he  subsequently 
removed  it  to  his  lot  on  the  corner  of  Milk  street 
and  old  Corn  Hill,  in  Boston.    This  frame  dwelling 

84 


Elmwood,  Mt.  Auburn  Street,  Cambridge;  Birthplace 
OF  James  Russell  Lowell. 


Random   Notes  of  Boston 

'•'  ifvvi'iiii)M-r,  1030,  liir  -,viij<"i,->  decided  to  begin 
..  .  w  town  at  a  spot  nearly  coincident  with  the 
present  Harvard  square,  and  "Newtowne"  it  was 
called  for  eight  years.  Here  is  a  contemporary 
account  of  Newtowne,  by  William  Wood,  author  of 
New  Englarid's  Prospect,  1633: 

''This  place  was  first  intended  for  a  city,  but, 
upon  more  serious  considerations,  it  was  thought  not 
so  fit,  being  too  far  from  the  sea,  being  the  greatest 
inconvenience  it  hath.  This  is  one  of  the  neatest 
and  best  compacted  towns  in  New  England,  having 
manj^  fair  structures,  with  many  handsome  con- 
trived streets.  The  inhabitants,  most  of  them,  are 
very  rich,  and  well  stored  with  cattle  of  all  sorts, 
having  many  hundred  acres  of  land  paled  in  with 
general  fence,  which  is  about  a  mile  and  a  half  long, 
which  secures  all  their  weaker  cattle  from  the  wild 
beasts." 

Many  of  the  Bostouians  agreed  to  establish 
homes  in  the  new  fortified  town,  including  Governor 
Winthrop,  Thomas  Dudley,  the  deputy  governor, 
and  the  "assistants,"  who  constituted  the  council,  or 
legislative  aids  to  the  governor.  Not  all  kept  this 
promise.  Dudley  built  his  house  near  what  is  now 
•  Dunster  street,  two  blocks  from  the  Square.  Win- 
throp, however,  changed  his  mind,  and  though  he 
actually  built  a  house  in  Cambridge,  he  subsequently 
removed  it  to  his  lot  on  the  corner  of  Milk  street 
and  old  Corn  Hill,  in  Boston.  This  frame  dwelling 
aQAjqHTaia  jaoQiaaMAO  ^Taa^xg  wnjauA  .tM  ,aoowMj3[ 


7 


'!H5- 


.V^""^.,')^' 


j^-  r.:.:Vi 


^;^..-  -- 


i  -'■ 


Random   Notes  of   Boston 

was  his  second  Boston  residence.  The  first  South 
Meeting  House  was  built  beside  it,  and  afterward 
our  own  Old  South,  in  1729.  When  the  British 
occupied  the  church,  they  pulled  the  ancient  mansion 
to  pieces  and  used  it  for  fuel. 

The  "paling,"  a  tall  barrier  of  stout  logs,  extended 
from  the  Charles  river  to  the  creek  that  formed 
the  north  boundary  of  the  town.  It  crossed  the 
land  now  occupied  by  the  College,  on  a  line  passing 
through  or  near  the  site  of  Gore  Hall.  No  assault 
upon  the  paling  is  recorded,  and  as  a  defence  against 
the  Indians  it  need  not  have  been  built,  since  they 
were  not  of  a  menacing  breed  or  disposition. 

In  his  Wonder -Working  Providence,  Edward 
Johnson,  whom  we  have  had  previous  occasion  to 
quote,  wrote: 

"When  they  had  scarce  houses  to  shelter  them- 
selves and  no  doores  to  hinder  the  Indians  access  to 

all  they  had  in  them yet  had  they  none  of 

their  food  or  stuffe  diminished,  neither  children  nor 
wives  hurt  in  any  measure,  although  the  Indians 
came  commonly  to  them  at  those  times,  much 
hungry  belly  (as  they  used  to  say)  and  were  then  in 
number  and  strength  beyond  the  English  by  far." 

This  friendliness  on  the  part  of  the  aborigines  was 
due  to  the  conciliatory  attitude  of  the  colonists 
toward  them;  consider  this  injunction,  which  the 
settlers  made  their  rule  in  dealing  with  the  Indians: 

"If  any  of  the  salvages  pretend  right  of  inheri- 

86 


The  Vassall   House,  Headquarters   or  Washington, 

177 5- 1776;  ALSO  CALLED  CR.A.IGIE  HoUSE  AND  LONG- 
FELLOW House;  in  the  Foregrol^nd,  Longfellow 
Park. 


Random   Notes  of   Boston 

was  his  second  Boston  residence.  The  first  South 
Meeting  House  was  built  beside  it,  and  afterward 
our  own  Old  South,  in  1729.  When  the  British 
occupied  the  church,  they  pull^^'^  ^^  "  ">  •'""!  .^^'».iLi,,n 
to  pieces  and  used  it  for  fuel. 

The  "paling,"  a  tall  hnrrier  of  stout  logs,  extended 
from  the  Charles  rive  i-reek  that  formed 

i  I )  1  •   ! !  <  r  I  r  I    u  oundary  of  the  tow  i  crossed   the 

land  now  occupied  by  the  College,  on  a  line  passing 
through  or  near  the  site  of  Gore  Hall.  No  assault 
upon  the  paling  is  recorded,  and  as  a  defence  against 
the  Indians  it  need  not  have  been  built,  since  they 
were  not  of  a  menacing  breed  or  disposition. 

In  his  Wonder-Working  Providence y  Edward 
Johnson,  whom  we  have  had  previous  occasion  to 
quote,  wrote: 

"When  they  had  scarce  houses  to  shelter  them- 
selves and  no  doores  lo  hinder  the  Indians  access  to 
all  they  had  in  them  bad  they  none  of 

their  food  or  stuffe  diminished,  neither  children  nor 
wives  hurt  in  any  measure,  although  the  Indians 
came  commonly  to  them  at  those  times,  much 
hungry  belly  (as  they  used  to  say)  and  were  then  in 
number  and  strength  beyond  the  English  by  far.'* 

This  friendliness  on  the  part  of  the  aborigines  was 
due  to  the  conciliatory  attitude  of  the  colonists 
toward  them;  consider  this  injunction,  which  the 
,8Kttl3MHi8U^e'gldtteKaa:iiiB^i]p»al^ffir^2wdli  tJOEAiBAJfeii^T 

wojjaio>io'J  jawjo^oaLaoi   auT  ki    ;a2uoH  wojjai 

86  -^^^"^ 


,^J^ 


Random   Notes  of   Boston 

tance  to  all  or  any  part  of  the  lands  granted  in  our 
patent,  wee  pray  you  endeavor  to  purchase  their 
tytle,  that  wee  maye  avoide  the  least  scruple  of 
intrusion." 

In  spite  of  the  intention  of  its  founders,  Cam- 
bridge failed  to  become  the  metropolis  of  Massachu- 
setts. The  Boston  people  did  not  flock  thither;  a 
Boston  man  hates  to  leave  home,  and  the  feehng 
seems  to  have  taken  shape  very  early  in  the  history 
of  the  city.  Although  the  General  Court  convened 
in  Cambridge  for  a  period,  the  town  was  never  more 
than  a  considered  possibility  as  a  permanent  capital. 
But  as  time  passed,  Cambridge  came  to  occupy  a 
position  of  fine  distinction  among  New  England 
cities. 

In  October,  1636,  the  General  Court  appropriated 
^400  "towards  a  school  or  college,  whereof  X^OO  to 
be  paid  the  next  year  and  ;£^200  when  the  work  is 
finished,  and  the  next  Court  to  appoint  where  and 
what  building."  In  1639  it  was  "ordered  that  the 
College  agreed  upon  formerly  to  be  built  at  Cam- 
bridge shall  be  called  Harvard  College."  This  was 
the  year  in  which  Stephen  Daye  started  a  printery 
in  Cambridge,  on  a  borrowed  capital  of  ^51,  the 
first  printing  establishment  in  New  England. 

John  Harvard  gave  his  library  and  half  hjs  estate 
to  the  college,  and  in  his  honor  the  institution  was 
named.  Nearby,  Master  Corlett  conducted  a  public 
grammar   and  preparatory   school   for    fifty    years. 

88 


Cambridge  and    Harvard    College 

He  is  said  to  have  "very  well  approved  himself  for 
his  abilities,  dexterity  and  painfulness  in  teaching 
and  educating  of  the  youth  under  him."  Painless 
education  is  a  modern  invention,  like  other  anesthetic 
procedure. 

WilhamWood,  1654,  said  of  Harvard:  "The 
edifice  is  very  faire  and  comely  within  and  without, 

having  in  it  a  spacious  hall a  large  library,  with 

some  books  in  it.'*     The  Italics  are  ours. 

Edward  Johnson  refers  to  the  college  enclosure 
as  "the  yard,"  and  today  one  seldom  hears  of  the 
Harvard  "campus."  In  old  Newtowne  days,  the 
portion  of  the  present  quadrangle  adjacent  to  the 
market  place  (now  Harvard  square)  was  called  the 
"cow-yard."    Today  it  is  still  the  "yard." 

The  first  three  Harvard  buildings  were  old  Har- 
vard, old  Stoughton,  and  Massachusetts.  The  last 
mentioned,  1720,  is  the  oldest  college  building  now 
standing.  To  rebuild  Harvard  and  Stoughton,  mon- 
ey was  raised  by  lotteries,  authorized  by  the  General 
Court,  and  of  one  such  lottery  the  college  itself  won 
the  capital  prize,  $10,000.    The  last  was  in  1811. 

In  Revolutionary  times  old  Cambridge  was  a 
center  for  loyalists,  many  of  whom  were  forced  to 
leave  the  country,  and  suffer  confiscation  of  their 
homes.  One  of  these,  Lieutenant-Governor  Thomas 
Oliver,  dwelt  at  Elmwood,  afterwards  the  home  of 
the  poet  Lowell.  He  signed  an  enforced  resignation 
in  1774.     During  the  war  the  house  was  used  as  a 

89 


.^^-' 


<«*^  -^ 


—   _.  V  .1    -^v--^^  ,    ( 


r'^-^;^ 


"Vi^' 


-«-->    i 


■■■■« 


"',4' 
■'«.    ^ 


'1^ 


JP'i   y 


( 


,  AMBRIl 


iiat  sui 
wav   aru; 


hospital.    Later  i 

one  of  the  ** signers,      w!..  niii 

afterwards   vice-preside-  "■  1 1  r 

quired  the  property   iv 

The  house  was  built   i 

Elmwood,  dating  back 

Lowell. 

On  a  night  neither  recen 
citizen  going  belatedly 
encountered  the  oval  it 
Washington   Elm.      Hv 
circuit  several  times,  then 
"Help,  help,  I'm  locked  in! 
The  old  tree  still  survi 
our  New  England  climate 
avail,  may  live  indefinitely. 
the  spreading  canopy  under  which  Washington  took 
command  of  the  American  1 75.    It  shares 

with   the  Craigie  homestead   the  In  ;  having 

sheltered  the  great  Coomia;  "^'  >  originally 

the  estate  of  a  rich  Tor  in   Vassall. 

General  Washington  took  the  house 

in  July,  1775,  and  chose      .  i1   use  the 

southeast  chamber,  w^here  afi  Wads- 

worth    Longfellow    lived    anti  ,joet 

himself  guided  many  a  visito  historic 

rooms,  answering  questioi  ourtesy. 

;  J jaH  aK4y^4fieri?^3J^"^  q^v^^^Oi  M'iM  aivi-i >  aiO  <3?^  ts 
-xa  aHT  TA  .;  jjaH  JAiapMaM  lo  ijawoT  am  azpyaa  . 
&t  greater  momen^^^n^.yr  J^^^^  .xM'aiiikT^-^"^" 

91 


"^atod  rigors  of 

i  orestrj.' 

t  has  lost  much  of 


-M-- 


The  Old  Gate  of  Harvard  College;  Harvard  Hall; 
BEYOND,  the  Tower  OF  Memorl\l  Hall;  at  the  Ex- 
treme Left,  Holden  Chapel,  1744. 


Cambridge  and   Harvard   College 

hospital.  Later  it  was  occupied  by  Elbridge  Gerry, 
one  of  the  "signers,"  who  became  governor,  and 
afterwards  vice-president.  The  poet's  father  ac- 
quired the  property  at  the  death  of  Mr.  Gerry. 
The  house  was  built  previous  to  1760,  its  name, 
Elmwood,  dating  back  to  the  days  of  the  elder 
Lowell. 

On  a  night  neither  recent  nor  remote,  a  Cambridge 
citizen  going  belatedly  home  along  Garden  street, 
encountered  the  oval  iron  fence  that  surrounds  the 
Washington  Elm.  He  felt  his  way  around  the 
circuit  several  times,  then,  terror-stricken,  shouted, 
"Help,  help,  I'm  locked  in!" 

The  old  tree  still  survives  the  repeated  rigors  of 
our  New  England  climate,  and  if  the  new  forestry 
avail,  may  live  indefinitely.  But  it  has  lost  much  of 
the  spreading  canopy  under  which  Washington  took 
command  of  the  American  army  in  1775.  It  shares 
with  the  Craigie  homestead  the  honor  of  having 
sheltered  the  great  Commander.  This  was  originally 
the  estate  of  a  rich  Tory,  Colonel  John  Vassall. 
General  Washington  took  possession  of  the  house 
in  July,  1775,  and  chose  for  his  personal  use  the 
southeast  chamber,  where  afterward  Henry  Wads- 
worth  Longfellow  lived  and  worked.  The  poet 
himself  guided  many  a  visitor  through  the  historic 
rooms,  answering  questions  with  gentle  courtesy. 

No  American  city  has  association  with  events 
of  greater  moment  in  our  history  than  has  Cam- 

91 


Random   Notes  of  Boston 

bridge.  Six  men  of  Cambridge  fell  in  the  battle 
of  Lexington.  It  was  for  many  months  the  head- 
quarters of  the  Revolution,  and  its  citizens  have 
helped  shape  the  destiny  of  the  nation.  And  in  that 
golden  generation  of  American  letters  just  passed, 
the  Cambridge  immortals  shared  gloriously  in  laying 
the  deep  foundations  of  our  national  literature. 

"Amid  these  fragments  of  heroic  days. 
When  thought  met  deed  with  mutual  passion's 

leap, 
There  sits   a    fame  whose  silent  trump   makes 

cheap 
What  short-lived  rumor  of  ourselves  we  raise. 
They  had  far  other  estimate  of  praise 
Who  stamped  the  signet  of  their  souls  so  deep 
In  art  and  action,  and  whose  memories  keep 
Their  height  like  stars  above  our  misty  ways." 

James  Russell  Lowell. 


iMt 


The  Head  House,  Marine  Park,  South  Boston. 


Random   Notes  of  Boston 

bridge.  Six  men  ot  Cambridge  fell  in  the  battle 
of  Lexington.  It  was  for  many  months  the  head- 
quarters of  the  Revolution,  and  its  citizens  have 
helped  shape  the  destiny  of  the  nation.  And  in  that 
golden  generation  of  American  letters  just  passed, 
the  Cambridge  immortals  shared  gloriously  in  laying 
the  deep  foundations  of  our  national  literature. 

'■  V  :',;  Ml,  .0  fragments  of  heroic  days, 

'      .1     M  Light  met  deed  with  mutual  passion's 

leap, 
There  sits  a    fame  whose  silent  trump   makes 

cheap 
What  short-lived  rumor  of  ourselves  we  raise. 
They  had  far  other  estimate  of  praise 
Who  stamped  the  signet  of  their  souls  so  deep 
In  art  and  action,  and  whose  memories  keep 
Their  height  like  stars  above  our  misty  ways." 

James  Russell  Lowell. 


.Moxaoa  IITU08  ,2iiAl  a^MAM  ,aauoH  gasH  anX 


T 


^'  .M 


■  W  >  :t^  .?> 


^^^■ 


ACKNOWLEDGMENT 

The  writer  desires  to  express  his  obhgation  to 
Mr.  Charles  F.  Read,  of  the  Bostonian  Society,  for 
many  courtesies,  and  for  the  privilege  of  access  to 
the  Society's  library  in  the  Old  State  House. 

The  following  books  have  been  especially  useful: 

Old  Landmarks  and  Historic  Personages  of  Boston,  by 
Samuel  Adams  Drake.  Boston;  Little,  Brown  &  Co.,  1906. 

Historic    Mansions    and   Highways   Around    Boston,    by 
Samuel  Adams  Drake.  Boston;  Little,  Brown  &  Co.,  1899. 

Rambles  in  Old  Boston,  by  E.  G.  Porter.  Boston;  Cupples, 
Upham  &  Co.,  1887. 

Life  of  Phillips  Brooks,  by  Alexander  V.  G.  Allen.  New 
York;  E.  P.  Dutton  &  Company,  1900. 

The  True  Story  of  Paul  Revere,  by  Charles  Ferris  Gettemy. 
Boston;  Little,  Brown  &  Company,  1906. 

The  Life  of  Paul  Revere,  by  Elbridge  Henry  Goss.  Boston; 
George  Cupples,  1891. 

John  Hancock,  by  Lorenzo  Sears.  Boston;  Little,  Brown 
&  Company,  1912. 

History  of  the  Old  South  Church,  by  Hamilton  Andrews 
Hill.  Boston;  Houghton,  Mifflin  &  Co.,  1890. 

History  of  the  National  Peace  Jubilee,  by  P.  S.  Gilmore. 
Boston;  1871. 

The  Public  Library  of  the  City  of  Boston,  by  Horace  G. 
Wadlin.  Boston;  1911, 

History  of  Cambridge,  by  Lucius  R.  Paige.  Boston;  H.  O. 
Houghton  &  Co.,  1877. 

Boston,  A  Guide  Book,  by  Edwin  M.  Bacon.  Boston;  Ginn 
&  Company,  1903, 


'1 6.6'/ 


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